


Star of the Waning Summer

by SeeTheVision



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Attempt at Humor, Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Donghyuck is a son of Apollo, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Jeno is a son of Hephaestus, M/M, Slow Burn, The Author Regrets Nothing, nct dream 00line centric, renmin crumbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 43,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24410248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeTheVision/pseuds/SeeTheVision
Summary: Finding out that the ancient Greek gods and goddesses are still around is something of a relief to Jeno. After all, it gives him someone to blame for every problem in his life.(In which Jeno makes friends, kills monsters, and falls in love—not necessarily in that order)
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Lee Jeno
Comments: 205
Kudos: 374





	1. Jeno Blows Something Up

If Jeno’s being completely honest, he’s not entirely surprised when his English teacher tries to kill him. After all, his last essay _had_ been pretty bad. He’d barely skimmed the sparknotes page for _A Tale of Two Cities_ before resigning himself to a failing grade. Dyslexia and Charles Dickens don’t mix.

So no, it’s not a complete surprise to be running for his life down hallways lined with lockers, with pounding footsteps right behind. It’s a bit more surprising that the teacher in question—Ms. Hyer—is chasing him on four legs rather than two. Jeno glances over his shoulder, catching sight of rusty brown fur and a shiny, spiked tail, but he decides that survival is a more pressing matter than trying to figure out exactly _what_ has been trying to teach him the difference between active and passive voice for the past several months. Some sort of monster, that much is clear, but Jeno could have guessed that after the pop quiz on the second day of school. No human could be that heartless.

Jeno skids around the corner, pushing his way through a crowd of cheerleaders. He’s pretty sure he knocked one of them to the floor, but he doesn’t stop to apologize; if he’s lucky, the student roadblock will slow down Ms. Hyer long enough for him to find an exit—

Jeno slides to a stop, grappling at the handle of the only door in the dead-end hall. _Please please please!_

Of course, the door is locked.

“No!” Jeno shouts, tugging uselessly at the handle. A guttural growl seems to shake the floor. Jeno spins around, back pressed to the door, and stares his death in the face.

The face, pinched and weathered, is mostly the same, aside from the two extra rows of razor sharp teeth on display in a hungry smile. The rest of Jeno’s English teacher is unrecognisable. Ms. Hyer’s stupid fluffy 80s hairstyle is now an actual mane, tapering out into the fur covering a lion-like body. A gleaming, segmented tail sways dangerously, tipped with wicked looking spikes.

“Time to die, I’m afraid, Mr. Lee,” she says, in the same self-satisfied tone Jeno has heard many times when being sentenced to detention. 

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Jeno says, hand desperately gripping the doorknob. “How about I just take a note home to my mom?”

Ms. Hyer hisses, her tail stiffening, pointing straight at Jeno. The cruel spikes shiver like porcupine quills, and Jeno has the nasty feeling that he’s about to discover first-hand what it’s like to be a pincushion.

The doorknob rattles under Jeno’s hand, the tiny pieces of metal in the latch sliding; Jeno can almost see them clicking into place. He doesn’t have time to question as he wrenches the door open and slams it shut behind him. The projectile spikes crash into it with bone-rattling force as Jeno rebolts the door and looks around.

The boiler room. Jeno’s somehow managed to get himself trapped in a windowless room with a murderous teacher/lion now pounding at the only exit. _Classic Jeno luck,_ he thinks.

The door shudders; the creature must be throwing its whole body against it. From the shuddering of the hinges, Jeno guesses he has less than a minute before his monstrous teacher breaks through. 

He scans his surroundings, quickly taking note of tools, odds and ends, and the boiler itself, just visible in the dim light of a single flickering bulb.

Jeno’s hands fly faster than he’d ever thought possible—wrench, pliers, and pipes almost blurring with speed.

The door explodes inward just as Jeno tosses the wrench aside. Ms. Hyer stands silhouetted in the doorway, all three rows of gleaming teeth on display. Jeno wastes no time pointing the metal tube of piping at the creature and tugging with the pliers, turning the water pressure valve.

Ms. Hyer roars in pain as she gets a face full of boiling water and steam, the pressure strong enough to blast her back a few feet.

Jeno’s moment of triumph is short lived; the school’s old boiler just can’t keep up with Jeno’s adjustments. The stream of water sputters and dies out, leaving a soaked, steaming, blistering, and very, very angry monster glaring at Jeno.

Jeno scrambles backward, hands scrabbling for the wrench. It won’t make a good weapon, laughably small compared to the huge creature stalking toward him, but it’s better than nothing. He raises the wrench, determined to go out fighting, but doesn’t get the chance to swing. Ms. Hyer freezes, face going slack with horror, and then she starts to crumble. Jeno watches, eyes wide, as his English teacher dissolves into dust. As the creature’s form disintegrates, another figure is revealed standing just behind: a slim boy in an orange t-shirt, a glowing sword clutched in his hand. 

“That was way too close,” the unknown boy says, shaking his sandy brown hair out of his stark gray eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Just peachy,” Jeno manages, still staring at the boy’s weapon. “Nice sword.”

“Thanks,” the boy snorts, tapping the blade with one finger. Immediately, the glowing metal compacts on itself, shrinking until it becomes an elegant ring, which the boy slips onto his finger. 

Another boy, also wearing an orange t-shirt, dashes into the room, slipping on the wet floor and catching the doorframe for support. “Woah, what happened?”

Jeno looks around at the destruction—broken boiler, an inch of still-steaming water covering the floor, the door ripped off its hinges. “I think I just got myself expelled. Again.”

The newcomer grins, a smile that melts something inside Jeno. He’s pretty, no other word for it, with delicate features, soft pink hair, and eyes that seem to shift color from moment to moment. “Here,” the pretty boy says, carefully making his way across the wet floor and offering Jeno a hand, hoisting him off the floor. “I’m Jaemin. This,” he gestures at the other boy, “is Renjun.”

“Jeno,” Jeno introduces himself. 

“How old are you?” Renjun asks, eyes narrowed.

“Seventeen.”

Jaemin and Renjun share an impressed look. “That’s a long time to survive on his own,” mutters Jaemin.

“Yeah, but we don’t have time to talk about it now,” Renjun says, gray eyes stormy as he furrows his eyebrows. “We’ve got to move.” He leads them out of the boiler room, glancing up and down the empty hall. “Someone’s bound to have called the cops. Where’s Sam?”

“I’m here,” bleats a weak voice, and the three boys turn to find a shorter form crumpled at the base of one of the lockers. Jeno vaguely recognises the boy as Sam Greenwood from some of his classes, but—

“You don’t have any feet,” Jeno blurts, staring at the hems of Sam’s jeans. Sure enough, his shoes are gone, and where his feet should be, there are cloven hooves. 

“No time to explain,” says Renjun briskly. With strength that Jeno would never have expected from his small frame, he tugs Sam to his feet—well, hooves—and supports most of his weight. “Our ride is waiting, let’s go.”

“He’s not usually such a wet blanket,” Jaemin says, tugging on Jeno’s arm as they hurry toward the nearest exit. “He’s just stressed.”

There are horses in the parking lot. _Winged_ horses. Jeno opens his mouth, hesitates, then closes it with a shrug. So far today, he's seen his English teacher turn into an impossible monster and then get vaporised by a sword that turns into a ring on command. Flying horses? Sure, why not.

"Get on," Renjun says, easily swinging himself and Sam astride one of the stallions, gesturing at the other.

Jaemin helps Jeno clamber onto the back of the other horse, carefully avoiding the huge wings sprouting out of its sides, then climbs on in front. "Hold on tight," he says, and Jeno barely has time to wrap his arms around Jaemin before the horse kicks off the ground.

"Where are we going?" Jeno shouts over the roaring wind, the flapping of giant wings, and the sound of police sirens slowly fading below them.

"Long Island, New York," Jaemin answers.

" _What?"_ Jeno yelps. "I can't go to New York! I have to get home. My mom—" 

"We sent your mom a message, don't worry," says Jaemin. "She knows you're going somewhere safe."

“And where exactly would that be?”

“A summer camp.”

“Summer camp? School isn’t out for a few more days.” 

“You probably would have been expelled anyway,” Jaemin yells, struggling to be heard as they pick up speed, “And most campers are already there. Look, we’ll explain everything later; just focus on not falling off.”

Jeno makes the mistake of looking down and immediately gets dizzy at the sight of his hometown turning into a speck below them. He squeezes his eyes shut and grips tighter to Jaemin’s orange t-shirt.

  
  


After what feels simultaneously like an eternity and definitely not long enough for the distance traveled, Jaemin announces, “We’re here!”

Jeno peels his eyes open and tentatively peers down as they start to lose altitude. A valley splays out below them, a forest, a few acres of strawberry fields, and a cluster of buildings nestled between the hills. Beyond that, the shore of what Jeno assumes to be the Long Island Sound gives way to calmly rippling water. As they descend, Jeno can make out the buildings: several smaller ones arranged in a semicircle, and a large white farmhouse seeming to look out over the valley. The smaller structures catch Jeno’s attention; each one is distinctive, and most are downright strange. He cringes when he catches sight of a stuffed boar’s head hanging over the doorway of one.

No sooner do the horses’ hooves touch down on solid ground than Jeno climbs down. His legs immediately buckle under him, and Jaemin barely catches him in time to stop him from crumbling to the dirt.

“Steady there,” Jaemin laughs. “You’ve been through a lot today.”

“I’m fine,” Jeno says, finding his balance, and looking around in confusion. Renjun is carefully helping Sam down from their mount. He hands him off to two pretty girls(both with green skin but Jeno’s not one to judge) who help him limp toward the farm house. “What is this place?” Jeno demands.

“Just calm down,” Jaemin smiles placatingly. His sweet, kind voice washes over Jeno like a warm breeze, easing the tension out of his muscles and the distrust out of his mind. “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.”

Renjun steps closer, shoulder to shoulder with Jaemin. Now that no one’s life is in danger, he looks a lot friendlier, although his gray eyes still regard Jeno shrewdly. “You’re here because you’re one of us. A half-blood. Half human.”

“What’s the other half?” Jeno asks cautiously.

“Greek god,” answers Jaemin, casually.

“Oh,” Jeno blinks. “Okay, that makes sense.”

“It does?” Renjun says. “Most people take more… convincing.”

Jeno shrugs. “My math teacher turned into a lion scorpion thing—”

“Manticore,” Renjun interjects.

“Whatever. And we just traveled halfway across the country in way too short a time, on the backs of flying horses. Plus, weird stuff has been happening to me my whole life. It’s kind of nice to finally have an explanation for that, actually.”

“That was so much easier than usual,” Jaemin says, and his voice has lost that honeyed edge. “Now I can introduce myself properly.” His eyes shimmer, dozens of colors at once. “I’m Jaemin Na, son of Aphrodite.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, but introduces himself again at Jaemin’s pointed look. “Renjun Huang, son of Athena. Come on, we’ll give you a tour.”

The camp is even more beautiful and strange than it seems at first glance. Jaemin and Renjun point out the dryads in the forest, and strawberry fields full of satyrs playing panpipes, as well as a cheerful boy with hair the same bright orange color as his shirt.

"That's Chenle, son of Dionysus," Renjun says. "He has a way with vine plants."

By the time they circle back to the ring of smaller buildings—cabins, Jaemin and Renjun call them—Jeno’s already warming up to the place.

“There’s my cabin, Cabin 10,” Jaemin says, pointing to a cute pink cabin with lace curtains. A boy a couple years older than them, with dimples and ridiculously shiny hair, waves at them as he waters the flowers growing beneath the windows. “That’s Jaehyun, my brother."

“Here’s mine, Cabin 6,” says Renjun as they pass a grey stone building with an owl carved over the doorway.

“Where will I stay?” Jeno asks, nervously eyeing the red cabin with the boar’s head.

“That depends who your godly parent is,” Jaemin explains. “It’s your dad, right? He has to send a sign, claiming you as your son. It’ll probably happen tonight, but if not, you can stay at the Hermes cabin until you’re determined.” He gestures at the largest cabin. As Jeno watches, two boys with matching devious smiles come flying out the door, chased by a taller boy.

“Give it back, you little demons,” he shouts, but receives only laughter in return.

“Hermes cabin,” Renjun explains as the trio disappears from view. “God of thieves, among other things. Watch out for them, especially Ten and Yangyang.”

Jeno is introduced to a few more campers, most of which are very friendly. Mark Lee, from the Apollo cabin, insists on accompanying them as they continue the tour.

“It’s so nice to have a fresh face around, especially one around our age” he says. “Most new campers are pretty young.” He turns to Renjun. “Have you shown him the training grounds? I think Hyuck is still down at the archery range.”

“That’s our next stop,” Renjun says. “I would give him a demo in the sword arena as well but he’s already seen me kill a manticore today,” he adds, a touch smugly.

“Nice,” Mark grins, slapping Renjun’s hand in an enthusiastic high five.

“Who’s Hyuck?” Jeno says, wondering what sort of creature he should be preparing to meet.

“Donghyuck Lee, my brother,” Mark says brightly. “Full brother, not just half, even though we don’t look like it.”

When they reach the archery range, Jeno understands what he means. A boy around Jeno’s age, not especially tall but lithe and lean, taking aim at a target at least five hundred feet away. Where Mark has dark hair and fair skin, this boy truly _looks_ like a child of the sun. His hair, his skin, his chocolate brown eyes as they catch the sun, everything about him is golden. He pauses just for a moment in the last rays of the sunset, body as taught as his bowstring, before letting the arrow fly.

“Hyuck,” Mark calls, “your form is getting sloppy.”

“Shut up, Mark,” the boy—Donghyuck—yells back without looking at them. “It was flawless and you know it.”

“They’re the two best archers at camp,” Jaemin explains, “but that means they keep trying to prove which one is _the best.”_

“Donghyuck, get over here,” Renjun calls. “Come meet the new camper.”

That gets Donghyuck’s attention; he slings his bow across his back and hurries toward them, eyes alight with interest. His eyebrows raise when he catches sight of Jeno.

“Wow,” he says, “when I heard Sam needed help bringing in a potential camper, I didn’t think he meant someone so old.”

“He’s seventeen,” Renjun says.

Donghyuck looks impressed. “You managed to stay alive for _seventeen years?_ By yourself?”

Jeno feels his face growing warm under Donghyuck’s scrutiny. As a designated problem child with a penchant for blowing things up, it wasn’t often that Jeno was on the receiving end of interest from someone so—well, hot. “No, I’ve been dead for the past five, at least," he manages to say.

There’s a short pause in which Jeno regrets the joke with every cell in his body, before Donghyuck bursts into laughter. “Oh, I like him,” he says in between giggles.

"Seriously though," says Mark, "you must either be really strong, or really lucky. Maybe you're a son of Tyche, the fortune goddess."

Renjun shakes his head. "His mom is human."

The sound of a conch shell echoes over the valley interrupts the speculating. “Dinner time,” says Renjun, leading the way toward the dining pavilion. “You’ll sit with the Hermes table until you’re claimed, so keep one hand on your wallet.”

The eyes of all the campers cling to Jeno as they file into the pavilion, each cabin settling in at their own table. Jeno wishes someone would give him a camp t-shirt; he feels like a single black guppy in a sea of goldfish.

Jaemin introduces Jeno to the camp director, Mr. D., a bored looking man in a tiger-patterned shirt. It’s hard to believe that this average looking guy is, according to Renjun’s explanation earlier, actually the god Dionysus. Chiron, the camp director, is much more impressive at first glance, what with his being a centaur and all.

Renjun and Jaemin stay by Jeno’s side, rather than leaving to sit with their cabins as Mr. D. introduces him, for which Jeno is grateful. Jaemin even corrects the camp director’s pronunciation of Jeno’s name.

“And now, if you’ll just go sit with the other misfits at the Hermes table—” Mr. D. cuts off mid-sentence, squinting at a point just above Jeno’s head, his face suddenly awash in fiery red light.

Jeno looks up; the image of a hammer flickers in flames in the air above his head. “What’s going on?” Jeno breathes.

“Your dad is claiming you,” Jaemin replies, voice hushed reverently.

Jeno tilts his head. “So… who is it?”

“Come on, Jeno,” says Renjun impatiently. “Which god’s symbol is a hammer.”

“Uh… Thor?”

Renjun groans. “No, you idiot, it’s–”

“Welcome, Jeno Lee,” booms Chiron’s voice, echoing across the dining pavilion, “son of Hephaestus.”


	2. Forging Friendships and Deadly Weapons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am officially back on my bs!  
> Big thanks to [Haru](https://twitter.com/damn_lemonade) for betaing this chapter!

Compared to some of the others, the Hephaestus table is relatively empty, with only three other campers, but Jeno grew up as the only child of a single mom. Suddenly having a cabin full of half-siblings is disconcerting, to say the least. Before the flaming hammer has entirely faded, he’s accosted by two boys and a girl tugging him towards table 9.

“I’m Yukhei,” the taller of the boys introduces himself. “This is Ryujin and Changbin.” The other two grin enthusiastically.

Yukhei is closest to what Jeno would picture a child of Hephaestus to look like: tall, with broad shoulders, strong arms, and huge hands scarred from years at the forge. The other two look tiny by comparison, but Changbin has a solid, well-muscled build that makes up for what he lacks in height. Ryujin, on the other hand, is willowy and slender with long nimble fingers, her dark hair pulled back in a braid that seems to be singed at the end. The only visible similarity between them is their dark eyes, nearly black like obsidian–just like Jeno’s eyes.

“We haven’t had a new cabinmate since Ryujin showed up three years ago,” says Changbin. “Good to have you here, Jeno.”

“It’s good to be here,” Jeno replies, a bit overwhelmed.

With help from Jungwoo of the Iris cabin, Jeno sends a message to his mother after dinner. According to Jungwoo, half-bloods try to avoid using cell phones when possible. Instead, half-bloods pray to Iris, the goddess of the rainbow, to send messages. A water fountain outside the Iris cabin fills the air with mist, splitting the sun’s rays into color.

Jeno’s mom doesn’t seem surprised as he recounts the events of the past day. “I suppose I always knew this would happen eventually,” she sighs. “I’m glad you were able to live a normal life for so long.”

“I think I’m going to like it here, Mom,” Jeno says. “It’ll be a good thing for me, don’t worry.”

Jeno’s mother smiles, her form shimmering in the mist. “You can thrive wherever you are, Jeno. You’re a strong, smart, capable young man. I see your father in you.”

“So,” Jeno hesitates, “you knew who Dad was all along.”

“He’s a good man, Jeno,” she says, a bit wistful. “I hope you’ll meet him one day.”

  
  


After an evening of smores and songs around a color-changing campfire, Jeno is exhausted. The weight of everything that happened–the manticore attack, the pegasus ride, introductory tour, the claiming–finally catches up to him, weighing his limbs and eyelids down as he follows his newfound siblings to their cabin.

The huge metal door hisses open. “Home sweet home,” says Ryujin as she ushers Jeno into Cabin 9.

The cabin is more spacious than it appears to be from the outside, with gleaming metal walls and tools piled on every available surface. Yukhei pulls a lever and a simple bunk unfolds itself from the wall.

“You can use this one,” Yukhei says. “Feel free to make whatever adjustments you want; none of our bunks are the same.” To emphasize his point, Yukhei presses a button to reveal his own bunk, which has a built-in stereo and minifridge.

“Sweet,” says Jeno, falling into his bunk. His mom promised to send him a bag with some clothes, but for now, with no pajamas to change into, he just kicks off his shoes and falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

  
  
  


Yukhei takes Jeno to the weapon shed after breakfast the next morning. 

“We have combat class with Taeil first thing today,” he explains as he opens the door, letting the sunlight spill across glistening blades of celestial bronze. “I prefer to fight with weapons I’ve made myself, but you’ll have to make do until I train you in the forges. What’s your weapon of choice?”

“Um… the last thing I killed a monster with was a school boiler, but that’s not very versatile.”

“Nice, man!” Yukhei laughs. “I once got a basilisk with a pressure cooker.” 

Inspecting the rows of blades, he hums thoughtfully. “A basic sword is a good place to start. Try this one.” He plucks a sword from the wall and holds it out to Jeno, who takes it gingerly. The metal glows faintly in the dim light.

“I guess this will work,” Jeno says, as though he has any idea of what he’s talking about when it comes to swords.

“Great,” grins Yukhei. “Let’s get going, then; we wouldn’t want to keep Taeil waiting.”

Taeil Moon, as Yukhei informs Jeno as they cross the camp toward the sword arena, is both the oldest and most powerful half-blood at camp. As the son of Zeus, most campers consider him the default leader, and he’s been teaching combat since he was fourteen.

“I heard he once cut off all seven heads of a hydra with one strike,” Yukhei says. Jeno nods along, assuming that must be pretty impressive.

After hearing Yukhei’s awed praise, Jeno expects a huge, herculean gladiator. Instead, a relatively short, college-aged guy with a friendly face greets them when they arrive at the arena.

“You must be our new camper,” he says, offering Jeno a warm smile. “I’m Taeil, son of Zeus.”

“Jeno,” he introduces himself, “um, son of Hephaestus.” He glances around at the others in the arena. The rest of the Hephaestus cabin is already there, as well as Renjun and his siblings from the Athena cabin. Renjun waves when he sees him.

“Great,” Taeil says. “Children of Hephaestus tend to have a way with weapons. I have a feeling you’ll be a good fighter.”

Sword fighting comes more naturally to Jeno than he would have expected. By the end of the class, he’s pretty proud of himself—even if he did get his ass handed to him by a twelve-year-old girl from Cabin 6.

“You’re a natural,” Taeil says, handing Jeno a water bottle as they put their weapons away. “I can’t wait to see what you can accomplish once you’ve got a sword of your own.”

  
  


Over the next few days, the last of the campers arrive and summer training begins in earnest. Jeno doesn’t think he could ever get bored with the variety of classes, even though he’s not the best at many of them. Learning Ancient Greek from Dejun of the Athena cabin sometimes makes him feel as though he’s trapped back in Ms. Hyer’s dreaded English class, but the subject matter is a lot more interesting.

“So,” he says to Jaemin after a lesson on the Olympian family tree, “your mom is married to my dad, huh? Does that make you, like, my step-brother?”

Jaemin cringes. “Oh gods, no. The Olympian side doesn’t count, except siblings.”

At Ryujin’s encouragement, Jeno tries as many different activities as he can. “Children of Hephaestus can have a wide variety of skills,” she says. “You might turn out to be good at something you’ve never considered."

Surprisingly, the underwater basket weaving class at the lagoon was one such event. “You’re quick with your hands,” remarks Taeyong, son of Poseidon and the class instructor. Despite having been completely submerged in the lagoon a few moments ago, his hair is perfectly dry. Jeno, on the other hand, ends up having to change into a new shirt after one of the naiads splashes him.

Archery class becomes another of Jeno’s favorites, not because he’s particularly good at it, but because of the teachers. As he has come to know, even among cabin members specialties and abilities vary, and the Lee brothers–sons of Apollo–are no exception. Mark writes poetry and often plays the guitar at the nightly campfire singalongs. Donghyuck, on the other hand, specializes in healing and singing. Archery, however, is the one thing they both excel at, and the class they teach, taking turns demonstrating and helping individual campers

“Hold the bow a little higher,” Donghyuck instructs, placing his hand over Jeno’s to correct his grip. “That will give you more control.” Jeno barely breathes until Donghyuck lets go and moves away to help Changbin.

Jaemin catches Jeno’s eye and smirks knowingly.

Renjun takes it upon himself to show Jeno the climbing wall during their free time. Jeno nearly gets barbequed by lava but manages to make it to the top alive, which he considers an accomplishment even if Renjun does laugh at the holes burned in his clothes.

Jeno’s favorite place to be, however, is in the workshop. Yukhei gives him a grand tour of the forges, the woodworking machinery, and the tool supply shack. Everything Jeno could need is at his fingertips, and he itches to work.

Working with Yukhei, Changbin, and Ryujin is unbelievably easy. He fits seamlessly into the well-oiled machine of Cabin 9 as they teach him how to forge weapons, craft magic items, and push the limits of what he thinks is possible. The versatility of celestial bronze creates endless possibilities.

At the end of Jeno’s first week, he stays at the workshop dangerously close to curfew, the blazing fire of the forges the only light. As the moon rises, he pushes the protective shield away from his sweaty face and admires his creation—his very own celestial bronze sword. He carefully picks it up, the hilt perfectly conformed to his grip, the blade gleaming and well-balanced. 

With a press of a carefully placed button and a flick of Jeno’s wrist, the sword folds in on itself, shrinking until all that remains in Jeno’s palm is a multifunction pocketknife. It had been Yukhei’s idea to separately build and design the different attachments aside from the sword blade: a screwdriver, a pair of scissors, wire cutters, a wrench, and several other basic tools, all of which would grow to full size when activated.

"That turned out amazing," says Yukhei, "but we'd better get to bed if we don't want to be eaten by security harpies."

  
  
  
  
  


“Attention heroes,” Chiron calls over the chattering crowd. “Welcome to the first capture the flag game of the summer. Most of you know the rules already: the red team, led by the Ares cabin, will take the east woods while the blue team, led by the Athena cabin, will take the west woods. The creek is the boundary line. No killing or intentional maiming! All magic items are allowed. Teams, to your positions!” 

The red team–including Jaemin and the Lee brothers–charge into the woods while Jeno and his team hurry in the other direction to set up their flag.

“Alright, team,” Renjun says. Despite his short stature, all the campers listen with respect as he explains the plan. “Hephaestus, you’re on perimeter. Set traps or whatever you want, just keep the enemy out as best you can.”

Jeno shares a grin with Yukhei, not bothering to listen to the rest of the instructions. The Hephaestus cabin had spent every free minute in the workshop and forges, sketching and welding and testing their creations on each other. The bag of carefully crafted items slung over Jeno’s shoulder, and the javelin strapped to his back, have his full confidence.

“Move out,” Renjun instructs, and campers scatter through the woods. The Hermes cabin takes off toward the river; as children of the God of thieves, Jeno figures they have a higher chance of sneaking through the enemy guards to snatch the flag. Jeno and his siblings follow, eager to place their traps.

Jeno can’t be sure how much time has passed as he strings tripwires and pressure plates in the undergrowth; after several failed attempts, Ryujin had managed to create traps that would only be triggered by someone moving toward the blue team’s flag. Jeno makes sure to place each trap facing the correct direction to avoid accidentally trapping an ally.

“Look out,” shouts Yukhei. Jeno barely has time to turn before an arrow slices through the air right next to him, grazing his cheek before burying itself in the bark of the tree behind him.

“No maiming!” Jeno shouts, wiping a drop of blood from his cheek.

“You’re fine,” calls Yuta from the Ares cabin. He’s nice enough most of the time, but he’s got a competitive streak a mile wide. “These arrows are enchanted to not cause any serious injuries.”

Jeno doesn’t bother to reply, merely watches with a grin as Yuta runs straight into a wire strung between two trees. Immediately, a sinkhole opens beneath his feet, sucking him waist-deep into the forest floor.

“Oh come on!” Yuta shouts, struggling to dig himself out. 

Yukhei pauses just long enough to give Jeno a high five before dashing back into the forest.

A rustling in the woods, down the banks of the river, makes Jeno look up, one hand instinctively flying to the shaft of his javelin, the other to his pocketknife.

A figure bursts from the trees, a swath of blue fabric clutched in his hands. Jeno immediately recognizes him as Donghyuck, running as fast as a gazelle. If the flag crosses the boundary, the game will be over. Jeno can’t let that happen.

Jeno aims his javelin, letting it balance in his hand for the barest moment, before hurling it toward the shore.

The javelin finds its mark, hitting the ground at the same moment as Donghyuck’s foot. Immediately, shining rope springs from the weapon, winding itself around his ankles, and he trips, the blue flag fluttering to the ground–on Jeno’s side of the river.

A second later, cheers erupt as Renjun, hands raised in triumph, splashes across the river into home territory. The blue team shrieks their approval as they lift him into the air.

“Well done blue team,” congratulates Chiron. “Good game, everyone. Any injured campers, report to the medical tent and make sure to be in your cabins by curfew.”

Jeno intends to help Donghyuck out of his bonds, but Yukhei practically manhandles him in the other direction.

“You’ve got to have someone take a look at that cut,” Yukhei insists. 

“It’s fine,” Jeno argues, but it’s no use.

Several campers with various minor injuries gather in the medical tent set up outside the Apollo cabin. Apparently someone had helped Donghyuck untangle himself because he arrives with a few of his siblings to begin fixing up the wounded. He doesn’t look any the worse for Jeno’s attack, though Jeno still can’t help feeling a little bad about it.

“Nice cut you’ve got there,” says Donghyuck, beckoning Jeno over. “Who gave you that one?”

“Yuta,” Jeno says. “Nearly shot my eye out, but he says the arrow wouldn’t have done much damage anyway.”

Donghyuck nods. “He’s right, I have some of those arrows myself. If  _ I’d  _ been shooting at you, though, I wouldn’t have missed.”

Jeno starts to laugh, but stops as it makes his cheek burn.

“Hold still, this might sting a little,” Donghyuck says, tilting Jeno’s chin to get a better look at his wound. He dabs an odd-smelling salve onto his cheek before smoothing a bandage over top. The warmth of Donghyuck's hand seems to cling to Jeno's skin, even as he pulls away. 

“There you go," Donghyuck says, handing Jeno a small paper cup of nectar. "Just drink this and you should be all healed up."

Jeno presses the cup to his lips, surprised to find that the nectar tastes like seaweed soup–the kind his mom always makes for his birthday.

“Thank you,” Jeno says. “And, um… sorry about—”

“Don’t apologize for that,” Donghyuck laughs. “You know what they say, all’s fair in love and capture the flag.”

Jeno grins, relieved, until Donghyuck speaks again.

“There is one thing you could do if you really want to make it up to me.”

“What?” asks Jeno.

Donghyuck’s smile turns conspiratorial. “Be my partner for the chariot races, and make some more of those javelins.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw I have a ton of headcannons about this au that probably won't make it into the fic(including the godly parents of the other members) so you can check those out on my twitter [here](https://twitter.com/see_thevision/status/1265377992588455936) if you want :)


	3. A Crash Course in Charioteering

Jeno wakes the next morning to someone poking his cheek. He grumbles and swats away the hand, attempting to burrow deeper into his bunk.

“Get up, Jeno, the sun is rising,” a melodic voice trills, and he suddenly feels much more awake. 

“Donghyuck?” he rasps, squinting as he fumbles for his glasses. “Why are you up so early?”

“Son of Apollo,” Donghyuck shrugs. “I get up with the sun.”

Jeno manages to put on his glasses and immediately wishes he hadn’t; Donghyuck looks unfairly good so early in the morning, already dressed in jeans and a Camp Half-Blood t-shirt—the bright orange making his tan skin seem to glow. On the other hand, Jeno’s sure his eyes are puffy, his hair is a mess, and he’s still wearing pokémon-patterned pajamas. He stifles a yawn with one hand and attempts to smooth down his hair with the other. 

“Any particular reason you decided  _ I  _ needed to get up with the sun today?”

“We need to start planning for the chariot race,” says Donghyuck.

Jeno groans. “Fine, get out and let me get dressed.”

Luckily, his siblings are all heavy sleepers and remain completely undisturbed as Donghyuck exits the cabin and Jeno starts searching for a clean camp t-shirt. By the time he stumbles out of Cabin 9 with his glasses shoved haphazardly onto his nose, the sun has fully crept past the horizon, glistening on tiny drops of dew that cling to the grass.

“Ever driven a chariot before?” asks Donghyuck.

“Yeah, I got my chariot license when I turned sixteen,” says Jeno drily. 

“Right,” Donghyuck giggles, “stupid question. I’ll teach you, let’s go.”

The chariot track is next to the stables where Jeno had been the other day for pegasus riding lessons. “Do the pegasi pull the chariots?” He asks nervously; he has nothing against pegasi, but he much prefers the steady reliability of machines to the temperamental unpredictability of animals.

“Sometimes,” says Donghyuck, “but most Hephaestus teams use automatons.”

Jeno nods. He’s had a look at the giant metal horses in the workshops and figures he can program them pretty easily. “I can take care of that.”

“Great,” says Donghyuck. “We’ll use pegasi today, and one of the standard-issue chariots, but for the race, we’ll have to design and build our own.”

“I’m starting to understand why you picked a Hephaestus camper as your partner,” says Jeno. 

Donghyuck laughs. “You got me. I’ll pull my weight though, I promise.”

“What are you gonna do, sing at the other charioteers?”

Donghyuck shoves Jeno’s shoulder, nearly knocking him into the spectator stands surrounding the track. “Shut up, Hammer Head. You know that javelin you used during capture the flag? Do you think you could do that with arrows?"

Jeno grins, mind already cataloging the changes he’d need to make to the basic design. “Sure thing, Sunshine.”

  
  
  


Chariots, Jeno discovers, are less like vehicles and more like tiny two-wheeled death traps. The standard-issue camp chariots are well-worn and rickety enough that he feels the wooden planks shudder under his feet every time the wheels hit a bump. He tries his best to pay attention to Donghyuck’s explanation about steering the horses while trying to avoid falling out of the open back. 

“Ready to try?” Donghyuck says after a few loops around the track. “If I’m going to use my bow, you’ll have to drive.”

“Uh,” Jeno says, glancing nervously at the pair of pegasi harnessed to the front. Their wings remain folded, so at least he doesn’t have to worry about falling to his death from a hundred feet in the air. “I guess.”

Jeno, in true Jeno fashion, immediately crashes the chariot. He takes a corner too fast, and the rickety box flips, sending him and Donghyuck flying as the spooked pegasi continue to drag the overturned chariot back toward the stables.

“Oh my gods!” Jeno wheezes, rolling over onto his side. Other than having the wind knocked out of him, he doesn’t seem to be injured.

“Holy Hera,” groans Donghyuck, a few yards away. Jeno drags himself to his feet and stumbles over.

“Donghyuck, oh my gods, I’m so sorry,” Jeno says, kneeling at his side. “You’re bleeding!”

Donghyuck touches the cut above his eye, fingers coming away bloody. “I’m fine,” he says, wiping the blood out of his eye and blinking hard. “I figured something like this might happen.” He pulls a small square of ambrosia, about the size of a gumdrop, out of his pocket and pops it into his mouth. Immediately, the torn skin knits itself together. The cut doesn’t disappear completely, but it now looks several days old.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Jeno huffs, but he’s relieved to see the wound isn’t serious.

“The first time I drove a chariot, Mark broke his leg,” says Donghyuck nonchalantly. “You’re doing fine. Let’s try again!”

  
  
  


By lunch, Jeno has crashed the chariot four more times and has had to reattach a wheel twice, but he’s much more comfortable with the reins in his hands than he had been that morning. “Just wait until I get our automaton horses fixed up,” Jeno promises excitedly as he and Donghyuck walk toward the dining pavilion. “Machines are way easier to work with than animals.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “This is why you Hephaestus kids have no social skills.”

“Hey,” Jeno protests weakly.

“You know I’m right,” Donghyuck grins. “I have to teach an archery class after lunch, think you’ll survive without me?”

“I’ll be better off once you’re gone,” Jeno says, pushing him toward the Apollo table. “I’ll start sketching the design this afternoon.”

“Sounds good,” says Donghyuck. “See you around, Hammer Head.”

Jeno arrives at the Hephaestus table to find his three siblings giving him identical amused smirks.

“What?” he says, taking a sandwich from a passing nymph and tearing off a piece to throw into the fire as an offering to the gods.

“You two seem close,” says Ryujin. 

“Donghyuck? Yeah, we’re teaming up for the chariot race.”

“Isn’t that nice?” says Jaemin, appearing at Jeno’s elbow with a glass of soda in his hand. He sips his drink, raising an eyebrow at Jeno.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” says Jeno. “Is Donghyuck planning to kill me or something?”

“Of course not,” laughs Jaemin. “Gods, you’re so clueless.” He turns to the other Hephaestus campers. “Give it a month, tops,” he says before sauntering back to the Aphrodite table.

“What was that all about?” Jeno demands.

Changbin snorts. “It’s just something Jaemin does. He makes predictions, and they’re almost always right.”

“What kind of predictions?”

“You’ll find out soon, I imagine,” Ryujin says cryptically.

  
  
  
  


“Jeno!” Donghyuck bursts into the workshop, Jaemin and Renjun trailing behind. “Come to the climbing wall with us.”

Jeno tugs off his welding mask and squints at his friends. After staring at the forge's fire for so long, he can barely make them out.

“Go on,” says Yukhei, not looking up from his own project. “You haven’t had a break in nearly three hours.”

“I’ll be out in just a minute,” Jeno says, removing his protective gear as quickly as he can. Apparently, a select few children of Hephaestus are fireproof, but he isn’t among them, which he thinks is lame. Children of the sea god can control all water, not just the sea, but children of the fire blacksmith god aren’t even immune to the fires of their own forges? Completely unfair.

Most of Jeno’s free time the past few days has been spent designing and building their chariot, but Donghyuck makes sure he takes breaks once in a while. He, Jaemin, and Renjun invite him to join in their activities: monster hunting in the woods, volleyball with the satyrs, and the occasional canoe race in the lagoon. Sometimes Mark joins them—he never misses a chance to join a monster-hunting party—but most of the time, like today, it’s just the four of them.

“Last one to the top has to listen to Renjun talk about military history at the campfire tonight,” says Donghyuck, swiftly dodging the elbow Renjun aims at his ribs.

Jeno groans, grimacing at the lava flowing down the steep cliff face, and makes a mental note to add a grappling hook attachment to his pocket knife.

Climbing is as fiery as welding. The lava hisses and steams, the June sun beats down on them relentlessly, the rough rock burns Jeno’s fingertips as he hauls himself up. Fire has come to be a comforting presence, like a warm embrace.

The competition ends up having no loser, as the demigods offer their hands to drag each other to the summit. “Guess you’ll all have to listen to military history,” says Renjun.

“I will push you off this wall,” Donghyuck threatens.

“Try it,” smirks Renjun, “I’ll drag you with me and we’ll fall to our deaths together.”

“Like true Greek heroes,” notes Jaemin.

Jeno giggles, wiping the sweat from his forehead. All the Greek tragedies he’s heard of in class over the past few days seem very far away. He doesn’t feel like a hero with a great destiny. He doesn’t feel his fate weighing on him. Surrounded by deadly teenage warriors atop a lava-spewing cliff, he feels more normal than he has his entire life.

“Hey, Na!” A jeering voice from the ground shatters the peaceful moment. A stocky boy Jeno vaguely recognizes from some of his classes—a son of Ares, maybe? Or Nike?—is squinting up at them, surrounded by a few cronies. “What are you doing up there? Go back to the Sea of Monsters with the other sirens.” The boy’s friends titter in agreement.

“Go to Tartarus,” Renjun shouts back, grey eyes nearly sparking with stormy fury.

“Shut your fat mouth, Todd!” yells Donghyuck. “Unless you want it full of arrows.”

Todd merely smirks. “I don’t see any bow up there with you, Lee.”

Donghyuck looks murderous but Todd is right; he doesn’t have a weapon.

Jeno pulls his knife from his pocket and flips up one of the attachments, which instantly expands into a nail gun—not the most sophisticated of weapons, but better than nothing. Todd yelps when the first steel projective pierces the ground at his feet. Adjusting his aim, Jeno levels the tool again, narrowly missing Todd’s left ear as the nail sails past.

“Wait, give it to me,” says Donghyuck, snatching the tool from Jeno and aiming with perfect steadiness. Todd and his cronies wisely turn tail and run at the sight of the son of Apollo pointing a missile weapon toward them. After a moment of targeting their retreating backs, Donghyuck sighs and lowers the nail gun. “It’d be unsportsmanly to shoot them in the backs, huh?”

“Unfortunately,” grumbles Renjun. "Nice trick," he adds, nodding to Jeno's weapon, which is once again an innocent-looking pocketknife, before turning his attention to Jaemin.

Jaemin sits with his shoulders hunched as if trying to make himself smaller, to disappear. He bites his lip, his usual smile gone, as he stares down at the lava churning far below them.

“Don’t listen to them, Jaem,” Donghyuck says fiercely. “They don’t know anything about you.”

“What are they talking about?” Jeno asks, then quickly backtracks, afraid to press a sensitive topic. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me, it’s not my business.”

“It’s fine,” Jaemin says, trying for a smile. “You’d have found out eventually, and I’d rather you hear it from me than anyone else.”

Renjun shoots Jeno a cool glare, as if daring him to react negatively to whatever comes next.

Jaemin takes a deep breath. “I can charmspeak.”

Jeno stares blankly. “What?”

“It’s a power that some children of Aphrodite have,” he explains, “But I’m the only one at camp who can do it. Basically, I’m good at talking people into doing things or feeling things.”

Jeno remembers the day Jaemin and Renjun had brought him to camp, the soothing spell of Jaemin’s voice, the way he’d obeyed his instructions without question. “That sounds awesome,” he says. “Why is it a bad thing?”

“A lot of people think I’m untrustworthy,” says Jaemin, gazing across the strawberry fields far below them. “They’re afraid I’ll use my power against them, I think.”

“Which is a load of garbage,” spits Renjun angrily. “Don’t believe any of it, Jeno. Jaemin is the sweetest, most genuine person alive.”

“Most of the time I can ignore it,” says Jaemin, “But sometimes I can’t help but wonder… Do people actually like me? Or do I just charmspeak them into being my friends without realizing?”

“Keep saying nonsense like that and I’ll have to push you off this wall,” threatens Donghyuck. 

“I know I haven’t known you very long,” says Jeno, “But you’re already one of my best friends. It’s not because of anything you say, it’s what you  _ do _ that makes people like you. You helped get me out of that mess with the manticore, and you always go out of your way to make me feel comfortable at camp.”

Jaemin’s eyes glisten. “I’m really glad you came to camp, Jeno,” he says.

“Me too,” Jeno replies.

“So am I,” says Donghyuck, a smile finally replacing the look of fury on his face.

“Yeah, you’re not so bad,” says Renjun. 

At the top of the climbing wall, with lava splashing and hissing below, Jeno feels like he’s on the top of the world, on Mount Olympus itself. The four of them stay there, looking out across the camp, telling jokes and swapping stories until the conch horn blows, signaling dinner time.

  
  
  


Rows of spectators cheer as the chariots roll onto the track. Donghyuck smiles and waves like a celebrity walking the red carpet as their chariot gleams, but Jeno has never been a fan of the spotlight. He focuses on steering the bronze horses and checking out their competition.

Ten and Yangyang from the Hermes cabin have their heads bent together, whispering and glancing at the other chariots. Their own doesn’t look particularly impressive, but Jeno knows better than to underestimate Cabin 11—they’re nearly as good with booby traps and dirty tricks as the Hephaestus cabin. Taeyong and Hendery steer a sea-green chariot with wave designs and shimmering seashells. The reins clutched in the older brother’s hands are probably arbitrary, as children of Posiedon can mentally communicate with horses, pegasi included. Hyejoo, the only child of Hades at camp, has joined forces with Yuta from the Ares cabin. Their red and black chariot is pulled by skeletal horses with flaming eyes and grinning skulls, making the nearest pegasi whinny in fear. Jeno spots Jaemin in a deep blue chariot with Jisung Park from the Hypnos cabin. Jisung’s normally sleepy face is more alert than he's ever seen it, with a mischievous smile mirroring Jaemin’s. Renjun and Dejun calmly observe the others from their sturdy grey chariot. Renjun catches Jeno’s eye and winks.

Chiron stamps his hoof. “Charioteers! To your marks!” The chariots pull to the starting line. “The rules are simple: twice around the track to win. Two horses, one driver, and one fighter per chariot. Weapons and magic items are allowed, but please try not to kill each other.” The Ares kids in the stands boo.

“Just focus on driving, I’ll take care of the competition,” says Donghyuck, notching an arrow in his golden bow. Jeno had stocked his quiver with a dozen arrows, color-coded based on function, and Donghyuck had lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. 

“Charioteers, ready!” Chiron calls, raising his hand. He lets his hand fall, and the chariots burst into motion to the roar of the crowd.

The bronze horses are like an extension of Jeno’s own body, moving in perfect synchronization with his thoughts. He can feel the wheels turning, the axel trembling at their speed as they take the first turn, neck and neck with the Ares/Hades chariot.

Donghyuck shoots his first arrow and golden cords weave themselves around the wheels of the black and red chariot. By the time Yuta manages to slice them free, Jeno and Donghyuck have pulled in front, just behind the Athena chariot.

At a scream from the spectators, Jeno chances a glance behind him. The Hermes chariot careens off the track, crashing into the stands; the combined power of Jaemin’s charmspeak and Jisung’s sleepy aura seem to have caused Yangyang to momentarily fall asleep at the reins.

Jeno takes the next turn so fast that one of the wheels lifts off the ground, but he isn’t worried about capsizing. He knows the chariot like his own body and he knows exactly how far he can push it.

Donghyuck fires an arrow at the Athena chariot, but Renjun slices it out of the air with his sword. Cursing in ancient Greek, he knocks another arrow.

“Wait,” Jeno says, “Use the grappler.”

“Good idea,” Donghyuck says, adding a second arrow to his bow. Jeno can barely manage one, but he’s seen Donghyuck shoot seven arrows at once.

Renjun manages to intercept the first arrow, which sends up a tiny mushroom cloud of greek fire that the Poseidon chariot has to swerve to avoid, but the other arrow finds its mark. The arrowhead splits into three, stuck firmly into the wood of the Athena chariot, with a bronze cord extending back to Donghyuck.

With one hand, Jeno controls the horses; with the other he cinches the cord with a pulley on the front of the chariot, dragging them forward while pulling the Athena chariot back. Renjun tries to hack at the cord, but Donghyuck continues to shower him in arrows. By the time the cord finally snaps beneath the blade, Jeno’s close enough to pull alongside as they take their final turn. 

Jeno urges the horses to move faster, the wheels to fly along the track. He feels the rattling of the planks in his bones. The finish line is ten feet away when Donghyuck’s last arrow hits the wheel of the Athena chariot and explodes. Renjun and Dejun are forced to leap from the burning wreckage as the bronze chariot careens across the finish line.

“The winners,” Chiron announces over the roaring crowd, “Donghyuck, son of Apollo, and Jeno, son of Hephaestus! Come forward and accept your laurels!”

Jeno is too shocked to move until Donghyuck throws an arm around him, half-hugging, half-dragging him from their chariot. He can see Yukhei, Changbin, and Ryujin leaping to their feet, cheering for him at the top of their lungs.

“We did it,” Jeno mumbles, hardly daring to believe it.

“We did it!” Donghyuck confirms, whooping in victory. “You and me, Hammer Head, we’re unstoppable.”

With the light of the setting sun catching in his eyes, his smile, the crown of golden laurels nestled on his head, Donghyuck gleams brighter than polished celestial bronze. 

“Unstoppable,” Jeno grins, “I like the sound of that, Sunshine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in and the plot is nowhere to be seen... It's coming in the next one, I promise!  
> As always, let me know your thoughts in the comments, or come yell at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/see_thevision) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/see_thevision)


	4. Missing, If Found Please Contact Olympus

It’s not the unfamiliar place, the giant metal animals suspended from the ceiling, or the feeling of weightlessness that lets Jeno know he’s dreaming. No, it’s the sound of the hammer, reverberating inside his skull, that jars him to the realization.

A huge man stands with his back to Jeno, pounding at a red-hot sword blade. He just has time to notice the metal brace on one leg before the man turns, and Jeno is face to face with his father for the first time in his life.

Hephaestus isn’t what Jeno pictured his dad to be like. For one thing, he’s at least twice as tall as a regular person; for another, his wild beard seems to be on fire, the flickering light making his rough face seem almost monstrous. However, when he smiles, his eyes are kind. Jeno can’t help but smile back.

“Father?” he whispers, afraid that if he speaks too loudly he might rip himself out of the dream.

“That’s right, son,” Hephaestus says, voice as deep and gravelly as an earthquake. “It’s good to finally meet you, even if it can’t be in person.”

Jeno opens his mouth but can’t seem to find any words. He’s never been much for sentimentality and it seems Hephaestus is the same because the god clears his throat and beckons him closer.

“There’s a reason I’ve brought you here,” Hephaestus says. “I assume the folks at Camp Half-Blood were surprised that you’d survived so long on your own, right?”

“Yeah,” Jeno says, remembering his friends’ impressed faces.

“Well, you weren’t entirely alone. When you were born, your mother prayed to me. She asked me to send you a guardian. She hoped you could live as normal a life as possible.” Hephaestus waves his giant hand at a polished bronze shield hanging on the wall. Immediately, the surface shimmers and ripples like the surface of a pond before solidifying into an image. “This is the guardian I sent for you.”

Jeno gapes at the image of a familiar brown and white cat. “Bongshik? But she was just a cat.” Although months have passed since his childhood pet disappeared, he still feels sadness well up inside him as he gazes at the shield.

Hephaestus shakes his head. “No, she wasn’t. Look, I’ll show you.” He snaps his fingers, and a cat slinks out from behind one of the workbenches. As it approaches, however, it changes. Fluffy orange fur turns to burnished metal as the cat grows to several times its original size. By the time it reaches Hephaestus, the cat has become a colossal bronze tiger.

“Bongshik was a robot?” is all Jeno can think to say.

“Not robot,” Hephaestus corrects. “Automaton. But yes, I created Bongshik to be your guardian. She killed dozens of monsters to protect you, but as you know, she disappeared–”

“And then my English teacher tried to kill me,” Jeno finishes.

“Exactly,” says Hephaestus. “The strange thing is, though, I have no idea where Bongshik is now. Most of the time, when my creations malfunction, they wreak enough havoc that I can find them pretty easily.” Jeno wonders just how often Hephaestus’ little projects go awry, but he decides not to ask. “But Bongshik still hasn’t resurfaced,” Hephaestus continues. “I’m beginning to get a little concerned. A powerful automaton like that, in the wrong hands… well, it’s never pretty.”

“So… I’m guessing you want me to do something about it?” says Jeno hesitantly. 

“I’m giving you a chance to prove yourself,” Hephaestus says. “Tell Chiron that you need a quest.”

Jeno has so many more questions, but the dream begins to dissolve.

“I believe in you, my son,” are Hephaestus’ final words before Jeno finds himself back in his bunk in Cabin 9.

  
  
  


The first tendrils of sunlight creep across the horizon as Jeno dashes across camp, still in his pajamas. As he passes the archery range, someone calls his name.

“Jeno!” He turns to see Donghyuck, followed by a concerned looking Mark, both clutching their bows. Insane morning-loving Apollo kids, Jeno thinks.

“What are you doing up so early?” asks Mark.

“I had a dream,” Jeno pants breathlessly. “I need to talk to Chiron.”

He expects them to call him crazy, but both nod seriously. “Dream visions are a big deal,” Donghyuck says. “We’ll come with you. Hopefully Mr. D will be too lazy to vaporize all three of us for disturbing his beauty sleep.”

Jeno pounds on the door of the big house, probably waking up half the camp. The door swings open to reveal Chiron, in his wheelchair-bound human form, blinking blearily at them. “Jeno? What’s wrong.”

“I had a dream,” Jeno says immediately. “My dad assigned me a quest.”

“Well then,” Chiron says, mouth pressed into a grim line, “you’d better come inside.”

Chiron leads Jeno, followed by Mark and Donghyuck, to a spacious rec room with a card table, ping-pong table, and several standing arcade games that beep and flash with pixelated characters. 

Gesturing for Jeno and the others to sit around the card table, Chiron folds his hands in his lap. “Tell me everything.”

As quickly as he can, Jeno recounts the events of his dream and the instruction from Hephaestus: find the missing automaton. Donghyuck looks ready to interrupt several times, but Mark places a hand on his arm to keep him quiet.

“A grave warning indeed,” Chiron agrees. “We’ve lost campers to your father’s—er, failed projects before. A fully functional automation would be even more dangerous if in the wrong hands.” He rubs thoughtfully at his beard, looking at Jeno as though sizing up his chances of survival. “Normally before assigning a quest, we hold a council. However, as this quest has been ordered by a god… yes, you had better go see the Oracle, Jeno. I will assemble the council for when you return.”

“Let me go with him,” Donghyuck pleads, but Chiron shakes his head.

“This is his quest, Donghyuck. He must receive his prophecy alone.”

  
  
  
  
  


Most of the time Yeojin Im is a sweet, friendly young girl. Her round cheeks and short stature make her seem entirely unthreatening. Sometimes, though, the spirit of Delphi uses her body as a receptacle and she recites prophecies. Jeno’s never seen it, but he’s heard stories of previous quests, of dire words that heralded the death of many heroes.

Yeojin looks up from studying a scroll when he pushes aside a curtain to enter her cave. Although it looks like nothing more than a craggy hillside crevice from the outside, the Oracle’s shrine is a lot like a regular teenage girl’s bedroom. She seems to have gone all out with the decorating, Jeno notes, taking in the fluffy white throw rug, the fairy lights strung across the ceiling, and the posters of some boy band taped to the stone walls.

“A quest?” Yeojin asks with no preamble. 

“Uh, yeah,” says Jeno, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "Can you, like, tell me my destiny?”

Yeojin smiles slightly before her eyes roll back in her head and she swoons. Jeno barely has time to catch her and lower her gently to the floor. Her lips part and emerald green smoke billows forth, curling into half-formed shapes as her eyes flutter open. Jeno swallows hard. Her eyes glow a solid, venomous green, casting the room in sickly shadows.

Yeojin begins to speak, but the voice isn’t hers. It’s ancient and grating, the way a desert might sound if it would talk. 

“ _Into darkness four shall go,_

_Hammer, dove, owl, and bow,_

_At god’s request to god’s design,_

_Where rock and water intertwine,_

_To give up what they call their own,_

_And bring the captured safely home."_

Yeojin’s head lolls to one side as the light in her eyes flickers out. The last wisps of green vapor seem to melt into the walls as if they’d never been there, and Yeojin grumbles, rubbing at her temples.

“You look pale,” she notes, studying Jeno’s face. “I didn’t just predict your death, did I?”

“I don’t think so,” says Jeno with a weak smile. “Thank you.” 

He leaves the cave as fast as he can while Yeojin calls after him, “Good luck on your quest! May the Fates be kind.”

  
  
  


When Jeno returns, mind spinning with cryptic words, the rec room is packed with campers, most still in their pajamas, seated around the ping-pong table. The head counselor of each cabin is present. Jaemin and Renjun are there too; Jeno supposes they must have been brought by Donghyuck, who stands as soon as he sees Jeno.

“He’s back,” says Donghyuck, silencing the sleepy chatter around the table.

“Took him long enough,” grumbles Mr. D, who sits at the head of the table. 

“Then the council may begin,” says Chiron. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve called you here so abruptly. Jeno Lee has been issued a quest.”

The room erupts in chatter. “ _What?”_ growls Yuta, standing and slamming his hands on the table so hard that Jisung, who had been peacefully snoozing with his head pillowed on his arms, startles awake. “He’s been here, what, two weeks? Why does _he_ get a quest? No offense,” he adds to Jeno.

“None taken,” says Jeno.

“I hate to agree with Yuta,” says Doyoung from Demeter cabin with a worried look in his eyes, “but Jeno doesn’t have enough training. He’ll be slaughtered.”

“He’s strong enough to handle himself,” retorts Yukhei, eager to defend his cabinmate. “He survived in the outside world with no training for seventeen years!”

“That’s quite a stroke of luck,” says Lia, eyeing Jeno with interest. Being the daughter of Tyche, Jeno figures luck is right up her alley.

“But a quest would be far more dangerous,” says Chaeryong from the Hebe cabin.

“Silence,” Mr. D snaps. “Whether or not he goes on this ridiculous goose-chase is not up for debate. As much as I'd like to blast him to pieces for waking me up so early—”

"Father!" scolds Chenle. "You promised not to threaten to blow up campers anymore."

Mr. D huffs. "Whatever. He'll probably get himself blown up on his quest anyway."

“Mr. D is right,” Chiron agrees. “Er, not about Jeno being blown up, but the quest is not up for debate. Hephaestus himself has issued this quest to Jeno.” He gives an abbreviated account of Jeno’s dream.

“So,” Nemesis cabin’s Yeji raises an eyebrow, “your dad wants you to find your poor lost kitty?” 

A few people snicker, and Dejun scowls, speaking up for the first time. “I wouldn’t make light of automatons if I were you. Didn’t you almost get gored to death by a Colchis Bull last fall, Yuna?”

Yuna, head counselor for the Nike cabin, immediately loses her smile, grimacing as though remembering the sharp points of the bull’s horns.

“If no one else has any stupid comments,” says Jaemin, his voice just powerful enough to hush any remaining murmurs, “we need to start actually planning the quest.” He pauses, looking at his older brother Sicheng, the counselor of Aphrodite cabin. “Or, well, _you guys_ need to start planning, since I’m not on the council.”

“My brother is right,” Sicheng says, his beautiful face stoic as he shoots a glare at Yuta on his left and Taeil on his right, both of whom are trying to subtly shift their chairs closer. “Jeno, you should tell us your prophecy.”

Voice only shaking slightly, Jeno repeats the Oracle’s words. He’s not usually one for memorizing poetry, but he doubts the hissing, snakelike voice of the oracle will leave his mind any time soon.

“That sounds good, doesn’t it?” says Taeyong. “ ** _‘_** _Bring the captured safely home’_ must mean that he’ll succeed in retrieving the automaton.”

“What will he have to give up, though?” muses Dejun. “And I don’t like the sound of ‘ _into darkness.’”_

“‘ _Hammer, dove, owl, and bow.’_ must be the quest members,” says Renjun, turning the conversation away from the more ominous parts of the prophecy. “Hammer obviously means Jeno; that’s the symbol of Hephaestus. Dove, that’s Aphrodite, and owl, Athena."

“You and Jaemin,” Jeno says without hesitation. “You’re supposed to come with me.”

“That just leaves the bow.” Donghyuck glances at Mark. “Apollo.”

“Donghyuck,” Mark says immediately. “The fourth quest member is Donghyuck.”

“But Mark,” protests Donghyuck, “you’ve been waiting for a quest forever–”

“So have you,” argues Mark.

“But you’re older!”

Mark crosses his arms. “Don’t fight me on this, Hyuck. This prophecy isn’t for me, I can feel it.”

“Wait a minute,” interrupts Johnny from Hermes cabin, “four quest members? Aren’t quests only supposed to have three?”

“Under normal circumstances, yes,” says Chiron, brow furrowed, “but the prophecy clearly indicates four.”

“That’s a dangerous number,” Hyejoo speaks for the first time. Several people jump in surprise; the daughter of Hades has a way of melting into the shadows, making it easy to forget she’s there. Even though the table is crowded, Jeno notices that the counselors on either side of Hyejoo have shifted their chairs as far away from her as possible. “Often, when quests embark with more than three members, only three return.”

“Thanks for that cheerful thought,” mutters Taeil.

Jeno feels a heavy weight settle into the pit of his stomach. “I can’t ask you to risk that,” he says, looking at Jaemin, Renjun, and Donghyuck. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“Don’t be stupid, Jeno, we’re coming,” snaps Renjun. 

“It is decided,” says Chiron. “Jeno Lee will lead this quest, accompanied by Renjun Huang, Jaemin Na, and Donghyuck Lee.”

Donghyuck bites his lip but doesn’t argue.

“You will be excused from your training today to prepare,” Chiron continues. “You should leave tomorrow, at daybreak. Dawn is a good time for beginnings.”

“Great, now that’s settled,” says Mr. D impatiently. “Good luck, try not to die.” He disappears in a flash of violet light, leaving only the faint scent of grapes behind.

The counselors slowly trickle out of the room, most offering Jeno an encouraging smile or a pat on the back. Yukhei is the last counselor to leave. “I’ll let Ryujin and Changbin know what’s going on, and we’ll gather supplies for you.”

“Thank you,” Jeno says, biting his lip against an apology. Yukhei is older, wiser, and more experienced than him; why did their father extend a quest to Jeno instead? As if sensing his thoughts, Yukhei slaps him on the back with a grin. 

“Don’t look so glum. Keep your chin up, little brother; meet your destiny head-on.”

At last, only Chiron and the four quest members remain in the room. Chiron examines Jeno with his millennia-old eyes, as if seeing all the heroes he’s ever trained. “Do you have a plan, Jeno?”

“I guess we should start at Bongshik’s last known location,” Jeno says. “That would be my house.”

“In Illinois,” Jaemin remembers.

“West,” Donghyuck says, grinning at Renjun, who’s eyes widen. “You know what that means.”

“What?” Jeno asks apprehensively. 

“It means we can ask my dad for a ride.”

“Your dad?” Jeno says slowly, the gears in his head turning. “You don’t mean—”

“The sun chariot,” says Renjun distastefully. “He’d better not let Hyuck drive this time.”

Jeno stares at Donghyuck, mouth agape. “You’ve driven the _sun chariot?”_

“He nearly _crashed_ the sun chariot,” Renjun corrects.

Chiron clears his throat. “That would be a much faster form of transportation than a mortal vehicle, or even our pegasi. If Lord Apollo bestows such a favor upon you, it will be a good omen for your quest.”

“Guess I’d better go pray,” says Donghyuck.

“And the rest of us need to pack,” says Renjun.

“Yes,” says Chiron. “I will provide you with rations of ambrosia and nectar. Come talk to me if you think of anything else you’ll need.

By the time Jeno returns to the Hephaestus cabin, the previous sleepy silence has been replaced by bustling and clattering as each of his siblings searches their belongings for any tools or nicknacks that might be useful. When the heavy vault-like door swings open, Ryujin and Changbin immediately accost Jeno with demands that he recount his dream. He reluctantly agrees, stuffing clothes into a duffel bag as he does so. 

“Wow,” Ryujin breathes when he finishes. “A fully functional, fully _independent_ automaton. I’d love to get a look at that cat’s control disc. I wonder if I could modify the chariot horses…”

Changbin snaps his fingers under Ryujin’s nose. “Focus!”

She blinks the faraway look out of her eyes. “Right, sorry.” She carefully plucks a bronze object from the shelves next to her bunk and beckons Jeno closer. “Here, I have something for you.”

The object is a squat bronze cylinder, about two inches thick with the same diameter as a CD. A fin-like triangular shape protrudes from the top, like the gnomon of a sundial. Around the edges, various greek letters and symbols are etched into the metal. “What is it?” asks Jeno.

“It’s a compass of sorts,” she says, tracing the symbols with her finger. “A gift from dad. I was twelve, living on the streets and being attacked by monsters after I ran away from my boarding school. It appeared in my backpack and led me to the nearest satyr, who took me to camp.”

Jeno leans closer to examine the smooth bronze surface. “How does it work?”

Ryujin presses her finger against the carving of the Greek letter Eta—the symbol of Hephaestus—and a previously invisible panel slides open at the top. “When it first appeared, there was satyr fur in this compartment. I think it works by tracking the scent or chemical signature of a sample to its source.” She shrugs, sliding the panel closed. “I know that’s not much help now, but maybe if you can find some of your cat’s fur—”

Jeno cuts her off by pulling her into a hug. “Thank you,” he says. “This must be really important to you.”

Ryujin shrugs, trying to look nonchalant as she pulls away and fiddles with the device. “You need it more than I do. Here, look.” She presses the point of the gnomon and it immediately flattens into the surface, which shrinks until it becomes a disc small enough to fit into the palm of his hand, leather straps unfurling from each side. A bronze wristwatch now gleams in Ryujin’s hand, with a compass where the clock face should be. Instead of pointing north, the compass needle spins aimlessly as though unsure of a destination. “Handy, huh?” she says, taking Jeno’s hand and strapping the compass to his wrist.

“Thank you,” Jeno says again. “I’ll take good care of it.”

“Take care of yourself first,” says Changbin. 

“Be careful,” says Yukhei, but his serious words are offset by his grin. “Stay alive, and make Cabin 9 proud.”

  
  


By afternoon, Jeno’s bag has been packed and repacked, his dream has been recounted several more times, and he’s itching to be on his feet, at the forge, _anything_ to avoid sitting around and thinking about the quest. Eventually, he escapes his cabin and makes his way toward the training arena, hoping that hacking a few combat dummies to pieces will calm his nerves.

The familiar _swish_ and _thunk_ of an arrow hitting its target makes Jeno pause in the doorway to the arena. Donghyuck stands in the center with his golden bow, armored training dummies positioned in a circle around him. He swivels, another arrow in his hand as soon as the last leaves the bowstring, aiming at dummy each in turn with blinding speed. 

“Wow,” Jeno breathes—which turns out to be a mistake, as Donghyuck instantly turns the bow on him. “Woah, woah, don’t shoot!”

Donghyuck lowers the bow, chest heaving and cheeks flushed. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry,” says Jeno, sheepishly, stepping to the light of the arena to inspect the dummies. Some arrows protrude from foreheads or eye sockets, while others have slipped perfectly through chinks in the leather armor. “I think you won.”

“Of course I did,” Donghyuck agrees with a slight smile. He gestures to Jeno’s weapon, now in sword form, clutched in his hand. “You here to join me?”

“Yep,” says Jeno, swinging his sword and taking off the head of the nearest dummy. “Pre-quest jitters, I guess.”

“I know what you mean,” says Donghyuck, slinging his bow over his back and flourishing his hand toward the remaining dummies. “Have at it.”

Although he doesn’t usually like fighting with an audience, Jeno doesn’t need to be told twice. As he swirls through the ranks of straw-stuffed warriors, he forgets about Donghyuck, forgets about the quest, forgets his father’s expectations and his siblings’ excitement and his own doubts. His weapon is like another limb—he knows it down to its smallest parts, trusts it like he trusts his own hands. He slashes through a dummy’s abdomen with his blade before flipping a different attachment and driving a spear, newly-materialized in his hand, into the chest of another. It’s only when all the dummies have been destroyed, as loose straw floats in the air around him, that Jeno remembers the eyes watching him.

Donghyuck applauds, the sound of his hands clapping echoing in the empty arena. “ _Di immortales,_ Jeno, I’m glad you’re on _my_ side.”

Jeno feels his face grow hot as he tries to catch his breath. “Uh… thanks?”

Donghyuck laughs and pats the bench beside him. Jeno sits, wiping the sweat from his brow and accepting the water bottle Donghyuck offers him. They share a few minutes of companionable silence before Donghyuck speaks.

“Ready for the quest?”

Jeno huffs a laugh. “Of course not, are you kidding?”

“I guess that’s fair,” Donghyuck giggles half-heartedly. 

“How about you?” Jeno returns the question.

Donghyuck sighs, eyes becoming distant. “I’ve been waiting five years for a quest.”

“You’ve been at camp five summers?”

“Not five _summers,”_ Donghyuck shakes his head. “Five _years._ Mark and I are year-rounders. We’ve been here ever since—” he cuts himself off. “Anyway, it's been years since I left camp, except for field trips to Olympus or New Rome. This is what I’ve been waiting for, what I’ve been training for, but…”

“Mark,” Jeno guesses.

Donghyuck bites his lip. “I guess I always assumed that when we got a quest, it would be together. I’ve never pictured leaving camp without him and I feel like I’m taking away his opportunity. He’d be a much better choice. He’s older, stronger—”

“Hey,” Jeno interrupts, settling a tentative hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder. “I’m no oracle, but I think Mark is right. This is your quest.”

“It’s _your_ quest,” Donghyuck corrects but the corner of his mouth turns up.

“ _Our_ quest,” Jeno amends.

“Our quest,” Donghyuck agrees, letting the words hang in the air before getting to his feet. “Which I haven’t started packing for.”

Jeno laughs, shooing Donghyuck out of the arena. “Get going, then!”

Donghyuck shoots one last grin over his shoulder. “Thanks, Jeno. I think you’re going to make a great quest leader.”

  
  
  


Jeno skips dinner and the campfire that night. He can't bear the thought of all those eyes on him as his quest is announced, wondering which of the four questers would come back alive. His siblings say nothing about it, but bring him a couple slices of pizza with understanding smiles.

Sleep doesn’t come easy. Jeno’s head swirls with doubt; he’s barely trained, completely unprepared to go on a quest, let alone lead one. But letting his friends down is not an option, so he resolves himself to putting on a brave face. 

Hyejoo’s warning from the council echoes in his head: _when quests embark with more than three members, only three return._ Not an option. All of them will return to camp safely. Jeno would make sure of it.

Mind clinging to that thought, he finally slips into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A QUEST! not a end-of-the-world high stakes quest bc i dont have the mental capacity for that but still! danger! adventure! clownery!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/see_thevision)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/see_thevision)


	5. Donghyuck Doesn't Get To Drive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are y'all reading for some QUESTING

In his dream, Jeno finds himself in his own house. His mother sits across from him but she looks several years younger.

“Answer the door please, Jeno,” his mother instructs, not looking up from the complicated diagram of an airplane engine spread out on their kitchen table. Jeno puts down the legos he’d been clicking into shapes resembling the mechanical pieces on the diagram, huffing in annoyance at being interrupted but hopping down from his chair without complaint. Bongshik is at his side in an instant, nearly tripping him as she rubs against his ankles.

Jeno has to reach up to tug the door open, expecting a neighbor or maybe one of his mother’s coworkers. Instead, a hulking humanoid figure leers down at him, displaying a mouth full of sharp teeth and flexing heavily tattooed arms.

“I thought I smelled demigod,” the creature rumbles. “What a treat!”

Jeno shrieks, stumbling backward in terror.

“Jeno!” his mother shouts, dashing into the entryway and tugging him further from the door.

Bongshik alone seems unafraid. She hisses, ears flat against her head as she stares down the giant. The monster and the cat stare at each other before Bongshik bursts into action, pouncing out the door.

“No!” Jeno shouts, squirming in his mother’s arms. “Bongshik!”

“Hush, my little hero,” his mother soothes him. “She’ll be fine, she can take care of herself.”

Jeno doesn’t believe her. What chance could a cat have against something like that? He sobs and tries to pull himself free, to run after his pet, but his mother shuts the door and holds him still.

A few minutes later, when Jeno has exhausted himself with hysterics, there’s scratching at the door, followed by impatient mewling. Jeno’s mother finally retracts her arms from around him to open the door and there on the welcome mat is Bongshik, completely unharmed, covered in a layer of odd yellow dust.

  
  


Jeno’s eyes fly open to someone shaking his shoulder. He gasps, frantically taking in the still-dark cabin as he struggles to make sense of the dream—no, _memory._ He’d always thought he’d imagined that half-remembered night when he was eight, when his cat had faced down an ogre, but now he realizes what must have happened. Bongshik had protected him then, and probably a hundred other times that Jeno didn’t even know about.

“Time to get up,” says Renjun, tugging at his arm. “We have to meet on Half-Blood Hill at sunrise, remember?”

Jeno shakes off the lingering tendrils of the dream and drags himself from the bunk. “Of course, be there in a few.”

When Renjun is gone, Jeno hurries to pull on his jeans and a clean camp t-shirt. He makes sure his weapon is in his pocket and the compass is securely strapped to his wrist, then shoulders his bag and takes a last look around the shadowy cabin. His siblings are still asleep in their bunks. He wonders if this might be the last time he sees them but cuts that thought off immediately. He’s going to come back.

There’s a faint glow on the horizon as Jeno treks up Half-Blood Hill, the dew on the grass soaking into his socks. The other quest members are already there, along with Chiron and Mark. 

“Do you have everything you need?” Chiron queries.

“I hope so,” says Jeno, glancing around at his companions, all of whom are checking their equipment. Donghyuck slings his golden bow and quiver over his shoulder, where they morph together into a black drawstring backpack with a metallic-gold sun emblem in the middle. There’s a knife sheath strapped to his belt but Jeno figures the Mist will be strong enough to hide something that small. Renjun has no visible weapon, but Jeno recognizes the gleam of the ring on his finger as his sword in disguise. Jaemin, on the other hand, has each hand wrapped around the grips of—

“Guns?” Jeno asks. “That doesn’t seem very Greek.”

Jaemin grins, spinning the handguns on his fingers like the star of an old Western movie before sinking them into the holsters on each side of his torso. “Celestial bronze bullets,” Jaemin explains, pulling on his baggy denim jacket to hide the weapons. “I’m no son of Apollo, but I’m a pretty decent shot.”

Donghyuck snorts derisively. “As if any child of Apollo would be caught dead with weapons like that. Where’s the elegance? The prestige?”

Renjun rolls his eyes. “Stop being such a snob. It’s almost sunrise.”

Donghyuck looks toward the brightening horizon and nods. He turns to Mark, who extends his hands. Hands linked and eyes closed, the Lee brothers bow their heads, lips moving in silent prayer. As the sun breaks past the horizon, a burst of light blazes across the sky. 

“Close your eyes,” Chiron warns.

Jeno obeys, squeezing his eyes shut, but even so, the intense light leaves black spots dancing against the red of his eyelids. The temperature increases until Jeno feels like a molten lump of metal in a flaming forge.

The light disappears and Jeno opens his eyes tentatively to see the sun chariot gleaming in the golden light.

It isn’t at all what Jeno would have imagined. Instead of an actual Greek chariot, a sleek red convertible glows and smokes at the top of the hill. 

The driver’s side door swings open and a boy with sandy hair and a deep tan steps out, pushing a pair of Gucci sunglasses to the top of his head.

“Dad!” Mark and Donghyuck both rush forward to receive a fist bump from the god Apollo. Looking at him, Jeno finds it hard to believe that this is really his friends’ father. He doesn’t look to be much older than Mark—maybe eighteen. Apollo turns to the rest of the group and offers a charming grin, his sky-blue eyes twinkling. At first, Jeno doesn’t see any resemblance between the god and his two sons, but as he looks closely, he sees glimpses of the sun in Donghyuck’s golden skin and Mark’s bright smile. 

Apollo surveys the group, nodding in recognition at Jaemin and Renjun before his gaze catches on Jeno. “Haven’t seen you before,” he remarks, looking Jeno up and down. 

“He’s new, lord Apollo,” Renjun explains, bowing his head respectfully, “Son of Hephaestus.”

“Huh,” says Apollo, interest already waning. “Well, I’ve heard you kids have a quest to get to, so hop in.”

“I call shotgun,” says Donghyuck, giving Mark a last one-armed hug before swinging the passenger door open.

The back seat barely fits the other three and their equipment (the sleek sports car doesn’t seem to have a trunk). After a quick game of rock paper scissors, a grumbling Renjun resigns himself to being squished in between Jeno and Jaemin.

As soon as Apollo pulls up on the steering wheel, sending them soaring into the sky, Jeno wishes he wasn’t sitting pressed against the door. He makes the mistake of looking down and feels his stomach lurch at the sight of Camp Half-Blood receding into a collection of dots on the ground far below. The car’s roof is down, letting the wind whip through their hair.

Donghyuck whoops, extending both hands above his head to touch the tendrils of vapor as they plunge through a bank of clouds while Jaemin laughs, tilting his face into the wind. Renjun peers with interest at a flock of geese emerging from the clouds and Jeno squeezes his seatbelt with both hands, imagining himself back on solid ground.

“Not a fan of heights?” notices Apollo, smirking at him in the rearview mirror.

“Not really,” Jeno admits, fighting to keep his gaze from straying back to the ground.

“Relax,” says Jaemin, reaching over to place a hand over his whitened knuckles. “Donghyuck isn’t driving, we’ll be fine.” Despite the joking tone, Jaemin’s words roll over him like a warm breeze and Jeno finds his muscles loosening, his fear melting just a bit.

“That was two years ago,” Donghyuck says with a pout. “I can drive just fine now.”

Apollo laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to ruffle Donghyuck’s hair. “Test that theory out on a vehicle less powerful than the sun chariot, yeah?”

Renjun snickers, earning a glare from Donghyuck.

“What happened when you drove the chariot?” Jeno asks, eager to take his mind off their current trip.

“I _didn’t_ crash,” Donghyuck insists. “And the wildfires didn’t even cause any real damage!”

“ _Wildfires?”_

Apollo chuckles. “He flew a bit too low.”

Jeno sits back, processing. Donghyuck’s tan cheeks glow rosy with embarrassment.

After what simultaneously seems like hours and mere minutes, the car dips beneath the clouds and Jeno can make out the familiar coastline of Lake Michigan spread out like a map below them. The city skyline of Chicago looms as they descend toward the neighboring suburbs and Jeno starts to recognize the land and buildings he’d grown up with.

“I went to that school last year,” he remembers, pointing at the dull grey roof as they soar by. “I didn’t even make it to Christmas before they expelled me.” 

“What did you do?” asks Renjun.

Jeno squints back as the school disappears from view. “I rewired the speaker system to play Fergalicious instead of the national anthem at an assembly.”

The other boys roar with laughter, and even Apollo grins. “Good to know you appreciate great poetry,” he says approvingly.

The familiar streets and alleys of Jeno’s neighborhood zip below them, leading him home. With a pang, Jeno realizes just how homesick he’d been. In the excitement of Camp Half-Blood, he had no time to miss his mom, his cozy little house, his old car that always needed repairs.

With a soft thump, the tires of the sun chariot touch down on the street outside Jeno’s house, the heat radiating from the vehicle sending shimmering mirages rising from the pavement.

“Thank you, Lord Apollo,” Renjun says respectfully as they clamber from the car.

Apollo smiles, giving Donghyuck one last high five as he straightens his sunglasses on his nose. “You’re welcome, kids. Good luck with your little quest.” He yanks back on the steering wheel and the sun chariot disappears in a burst of light, becoming one with the sun directly overhead. It must be around noon, although the ride hadn’t seemed quite that long.

For a moment, the four of them stand on the sidewalk, looking at the house. It’s small, just big enough for Jeno and his mom, not much to look at, but he feels a rush of affection for the curtained windows and overgrown flower beds. “Maybe I should have sent an Iris message to let her know we were coming,” says Jeno.

Jaemin raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, that probably would have been good.”

With a shrug, Jeno hoists his pack higher on his shoulder and crosses the small patch of lawn to the bright blue front door.

“Mom?” Jeno calls into the entryway as he swings the door open and waves his friends inside. Out of habit, he toes his shoes off on the doormat and the others follow suit.

“Jeno?” Comes a baffled reply, then his mother appears with wide eyes and a pencil hastily tucked behind her ear. Jeno nearly cries at the familiarity; so much of his life has been flipped on its head, but the way his mother smells—like graphite and engine grease and sawdust—when she pulls him in for a hug is exactly the same. “What are you doing here? And who are your friends?”

Jaemin doesn’t wait for an introduction. He steps forward with his signature heart-stopping smile and offers his hand to Jeno’s mom. 

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Lee. I’m Jaemin, this is Donghyuck and Renjun. We’re Jeno’s friends from camp.” He’s not using charmspeak, but he doesn’t have to; her face softens and she accepts Jaemin’s offered hand with a warm smile, gazing at each boy’s face in turn. Donghyuck seems to stiffen, standing up straighter but fixing his eyes resolutely on his socked feet.

“I have a feeling you all have quite a story to tell me,” she says, raising an eyebrow at Jeno. “Let me make some food and you can fill me in over lunch.”

  
  


“I haven’t had kimbap in ages,” Jaemin sighs happily. “My dad used to put it in my lunchbox every day.”

“You’re Korean?” asks Jeno’s mom in mild interest.

“My dad is,” confirms Jaemin.

“And your mom?”

“She’s, uh,” he glances at Jeno.

“She knows,” Jeno says. “Jaemin’s mom is Aphrodite.”

“So,” Donghyuck says abruptly, as though eager to change the subject, “we’re on a quest.” He looks pointedly at Jeno.

“Oh, right,” says Jeno, a bit baffled, but he recounts his dream from Hephaestus in between bites of kimbap. His mother doesn’t seem surprised about Bongshik, but he supposes she’d known from the beginning. 

With a tap of his finger, the compass on Jeno’s wrist detaches and grows to full size as he explains its functionality. His mother’s eyes light up with interest as she studies the device. “There’s probably still some of Bongshik’s fur on her bed. It’s in the front closet.” After the cat disappeared, they hadn’t been able to bring themselves to throw away her bed, toys, or food bowl.

There is in fact some hair clinging to the fleece of the cushioned cat bed, but when Jeno places the tufts in the compartment in the compass, the bronze gnomon merely spins half-heartedly, as if not sure which way to point.

“The housecat wasn’t her true form,” Renjun says, brows furrowed. “Maybe you have to track her with something from her automaton form.”

“That’ll be significantly harder,” muses Jeno. “She was usually a cat; I never even caught a glimpse of her true form.”

“You’d probably have better luck outside,” says Jeno’s mother. “She patrolled the neighborhood almost every day, and had a lot of run-ins with monsters.”

Jeno’s heart sinks. Bongshik has been missing for months, what are the chances that something of her remains? Besides, he doesn’t even know what to look for.

“I have a metal detector,” suggests his mom. “Maybe that would help.”

“Good idea,” says Renjun. “We’ll start in the yard and work our way out.”

It’s a mind-numbingly boring task. Most demigods are ADHD due to their natural battle instincts, and Jeno and his friends are no exception. Within a few minutes of Jeno methodically scanning the lawn and flowerbeds, Jaemin wanders off to look at a bird’s nest in a tall oak tree.

“What’s that?” asks Renjun, gesturing to a door behind the garage. 

“My mom’s workshop,” Jeno replies. “She designs airplane parts.”

Renjun’s face lights up with interest. “Can I go look?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before scurrying to the door and slipping inside.

Jeno sighs, returning his gaze to the ground. Donghyuck scuffs his toe at the dirt, hands shoved in his pockets. A shadow seems to have fallen over his usual cheer, like a cloud obscuring the sun.

“You okay?” Jeno ventures tentatively.

“Fine,” says Donghyuck curtly. Jeno raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push the issue. It’s obvious something’s wrong, but it’s also obvious that Donghyuck doesn’t want to talk about it. The silence between them crystalizes as they continue to slowly scan the grass.

A shrill beeping rings out across the garden, the metal detector flashing wildly. Jeno yelps, nearly dropping the device as he tries to pinpoint the location. Donghyuck drops to his knees, scrabbling through the overgrown grass in search of—

“Here!” he says, his fingertips grasping at a shard of glimmering metal. He holds it up for Jeno to inspect; a curve of bronze the size on Donghyuck’s palm, sunlight dancing on the wickedly sharp point. 

“A claw,” breathes Jeno. “I think that’ll work.”

  
  
  


Well-supplied by Jeno’s mom with sandwiches and cookies in ziplock bags, the four quest members load themselves and their gear into Jeno’s car—the car he spent nearly two years finessing into a workable condition.

“Baby,” he croons, running his hand lovingly along the dashboard as he slides into the driver’s seat, “I missed you so much!”

Jaemin raises an eyebrow as he claims the passenger side—an honor he’d won in a fierce battle of rock-paper-scissors. “I’ve never seen you so enthusiastic about anything.”

Jeno shrugs. “I did so much work on this beautiful thing, I practically built her.”

“Basically your first-born child,” Renjun snickers.

Rolling his eyes, Jeno turns his key in the ignition, relishing the roar of the engine coming to life.

“Be careful!” his mother admonishes. 

“I’ll try,” Jeno promises, hoping he’ll still be in one piece the next time he sees her.

The compass on Jeno’s wrist points southwest, but after hitting several dead ends in Chicago suburbs, they decide to take the interstate heading west. “She’s probably pretty far away,” Renjun speculates, inspecting the way the needle points steadily in the same direction no matter which way they turn. “We can worry about specific directions when we know we’re close.”

“When will that be?” asks Donghyuck.

Renjun shrugs. “When the compass shifts, I guess.”

Jaemin cranks up the radio and for a few hours, it almost feels like a normal road trip. Hot summer air blasts through the open windows as they sing along and laugh at the top of their lungs.

As the sun sets, Jeno glances at his wrist in the dimming light. The needle continues to point southwest, as though they haven’t moved at all. “She must have gone a _long_ way,” he says, brow furrowed as he flicks on the headlights.

“Or,” Donghyuck says, “she was _taken_ a long way. Didn’t the prophecy say _bring the captured safely home?”_

“Right,” says Renjun, voice clouded with worry. “What could have captured an automaton that powerful?”

“I have a bad feeling that we’re going to find out,” Jaemin sighs.

The car falls silent, the radio having given way to static as they traverse the wilderness in between cities. They crossed the border into Iowa a while ago but Jeno never paid enough attention in geography class to have any idea where they are. In the darkness, the trees to either side of the road form figures and eerie faces. Jeno shivers.

“We should find somewhere to stop for the night soon,” he says.

“Yeah,” agrees Donghyuck with a yawn. “Maybe—”

The car’s headlights catch on a huge, writhing shape in the middle of the road. Jeno slams on the brakes, barely avoiding crashing headlong into it as he stares in horror. The thing towers over them, the yellow headlights glinting on its reptilian scales. Jeno’s gaze traces the sinuous line of its body, up, up, up, to the eyes glaring down at them from at least a dozen dragon-like heads.

“ _Di immortales,”_ Renjun curses. “Hydra!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the cliffhanger but its what rick riordan would want me to do  
> feel free to yell at me in the comments


	6. Jeno Blows Something Up...Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW! violence, injury
> 
> as always, huge thanks to Haru for being a lovely beta and a lovely person in general

The hydra opens its many mouths and lets out a harmony of hissing. Clear liquid splatters against the windshield, the glass and metal immediately beginning to smoke and dissolve.

“Everybody out,” yelps Renjun, kicking open his door and diving onto the asphalt. The others follow suit, already fumbling for their weapons.

“Don’t cut off its heads,” Jaemin warns as Jeno’s sword springs to full-size in his hand. “Two more will grow back in its place.”

Jeno growls in frustration, holding back the instinct to slash as a sinuous neck swings toward him. He drops into a roll, narrowly avoiding razor-sharp teeth. “How do we kill it, then?”

Two gunshots ring out as Jaemin targets the nearest head, which falls motionless for a few seconds, smoking holes in its cranium, but soon reanimates. “It won’t die until all the heads are defeated at once,” he shouts back, dodging behind the steaming hood of the car to join Renjun and avoid a spurt of acid. Jeno follows, cringing at the acrid smell of his beloved vehicle burning away.

“Hercules cut off the heads, then burned the stumps to stop them from growing back,” says Donghyuck, vaulting over the trunk to join them, “and I’ve heard of heroes using bombs or cannons to blow a hydra to pieces.”

“Unfortunately,” Renjun huffs, using the flat of his blade to bat away a head that pokes around the side of the car, “we don’t have a cannon or bomb handy.”

Jeno looks at the smoking mass of metal that was once his most prized possession. “Actually, we might.” With a flick of his wrist, his sword disappears.

“Are you crazy?” hisses Donghyuck, “What are you talking about?”

Renjun smacks another head like a baseball player hitting a home run. “We need to move.”

“I need you guys to keep it distracted,” says Jeno, his wrench attachment growing to full size in his hand. “Donghyuck, do you have any trap arrows?”

“A few,” says Donghyuck, checking his quiver.

“Good. Try to trap the hydra against the car, or as close as you can get.”

Renjun looks at the wrench clutched in Jeno’s hand, eyes widening. “You aren’t going to—”

“Yes, I am,” says Jeno firmly, “Now go!”

Renjun and Jaemin go first, running around the trunk of the car to draw the hydra’s attention while Donghyuck circles around the other way, fitting an arrow to his bowstring. Jeno scurries to the hood of the car, praying the hydra’s acid didn’t melt anything useful. He has to use the crowbar attachment on his pocket-knife to pry the hood up, but to his relief, the engine seems to be mostly intact.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jeno keeps track of the battle. Jaemin and Renjun try their best to keep the monster’s attention on themselves, waving their weapons. Jaemin shouts conflicting instructions in charmspeak—“Look behind you! Go bite a tree! The floor is lava!”—to keep it confused. Whenever a head turns toward Jeno or Donghyuck, he takes it out with a celestial bronze bullet. Jeno’s hands fly over the machinery, switching his tool from wrench to pliers to wire cutters as he reconfigures the primary connections.

Donghyuck fires his first shot; the arrowhead splits into three in midair, each trailing a web of thin bronze cord. Jeno feels the impact when the arrowheads bury themselves in the side of the car. The hydra screams in fury, weaving its necks as it tries to soak its bonds with acid, but Donghyuck fires again, doubling the snare.

“Hurry, Jeno!” screams Renjun, ripping off his jacket before the acid soaking it can eat away at his flesh.

“I’m trying!” Jeno surveys his work, but for this to succeed he needs to alter the exhaust system and the gas tank, which means—“Holy Hera!” he swears, ducking to the side, dropping to the asphalt, and wriggling his way beneath the car.

“Jeno, what in Hades are you doing?” Jaemin protests, but Jeno ignores him.

Without a jack lifting the back end of the car, Jeno’s face is uncomfortably close to the machinery above him as he attempts to loosen the piping—not to mention the steaming puddle of slowly leaking acid creeping its way across the ground toward him.

“I’m out of trap arrows,” Donghyuck warns, “and this won’t hold for long.” The hydra screeches in agreement.

“Just… one more… second,” Jeno grunts, yanking on the wrench. The telltale scent of gasoline tells him that he’s done his job; he shoves out from under the car, no doubt giving himself roadburn. “Okay, go go go!” They scatter, diving into the underbrush on the side of the road just as his beloved car explodes, the roar of flames and the screech of metal mingling with the hydra's agonized wails.

A wave of heat crashes over Jeno as he covers his head to protect it from flying shrapnel. Gods, he hopes he didn’t just blow up any of his friends.

“Gods of Olympus, that was  _ awesome!” _ Jaemin whoops from somewhere to his left.

“I think you mean  _ terrifying,”  _ replies Donghyuck, crawling out of the bushes on the other side of the road with his bow cradled against his chest.

“Are you guys hurt?” asks Jeno, inspecting his own limbs for injury in the flickering light of the flames still smoldering in the wreckage of his car. His palms are torn and bleeding from the asphalt, and he suspects his back is too, but other than that he seems unharmed.

“Just a few scrapes,” Donghyuck reports.

“Maybe some bruises,” says Jaemin, wincing as he gets to his feet. “Where’s Renjun?”

No answer save for the crickets in the woods.

“Renjun?” Jeno calls, tentatively at first and then with growing panic, “Renjun!”

“He was next to me when we were running for cover,” says Jaemin, turning in a slow circle. “Gods, it’s so dark, I can’t see anything!”

“Oh Hades, I forgot” curses Jeno, fumbling for his pocketknife, “I have a flashlight, hold on.”

The white beam of the flashlight scans the surroundings, covered in bits of smoking metal, until it lands on a form half-buried in the undergrowth.

“Oh, Styx,” breathes Jaemin.

Donghyuck rushes forward, dropping to his knees and turning Renjun onto his back. Blood spills from a gash on his forehead, nearly black in harsh light. “Looks like he got hit by a piece of shrapnel,” says Donghyuck grimly, “but he’s breathing. Thank the gods I pulled my bag out of the car before it blew. Someone get it for me, it’s on the other side of the road.” As Jaemin hurries to find the pack, Donghyuck motions for Jeno to bring the light closer.

“This is all my fault,” mumbles Jeno, sick at the sight of Renjun’s pale face, streaked with blood and soot.

“Don’t say that,” snaps Donghyuck, nimble fingers pressing into the side of Renjun’s neck in search of a pulse. “You saved us. We would all have been hydra food if it wasn’t for you.”

“Found it,” huffs Jaemin, returning with Donghyuck’s bag in hand. 

“There’s a canteen of nectar in the side pocket, give it to me,” Donghyuck instructs. He uncaps the canteen and drips the godly drink onto the cut.

“Isn’t nectar a drink?” wonders Jeno aloud.

“It has a lot of uses,” explains Donghyuck, not taking his eyes off Renjun as he gently dabs away the excess blood around the wound. “This will help stop the bleeding and keep the cut from getting infected.”

Jeno and Jaemin watch in tense silence as Donghyuck uses the nectar to thoroughly clean the wound. “Okay,” he says after a few minutes, “the bleeding’s stopped at least.” He gently tilts Renjun’s head up and fits the canteen to his lips, forcing him to drink.

Renjun’s eyelids flutter as Donghyuck recaps the canteen. “Ow,” he groans weakly.

“Thank the gods,” says Jaemin. “That would have been such a dumb way to die. Survived a hydra but vanquished by a flying piece of metal.”

“Someone knock me out again,” grumbles Renjun, “so I don’t have to listen to Jaemin’s babbling.”

Jeno breathes a sigh of relief; if Renjun’s already complaining, he’s going to be okay.

“Can you stand?” asks Donghyuck, offering Renjun a hand.

“I think so,” he replies, allowing Donghyuck to pull him to his feet. He wobbles a bit but manages to stay upright with Donghyuck’s help. Catching sight of the still-smoking shell of Jeno’s car, he winces. “We’d better get away from the road. I’m not sure where the nearest town is, but emergency crews will show up sooner or later. We don’t want anyone asking questions about why a bunch of teenagers were at a bomb site.”

“Good thinking for someone who’s head just got chopped open,” agrees Jaemin. “Into the woods we go.”

Jaemin and Jeno each shoulder a pack—Renjun, along with Donghyuck had the presence of mind to grab theirs as they dove from the car while all their other gear was destroyed in the explosion—as Donghyuck helps to support Renjun’s weight. They walk in near silence, Jeno’s flashlight illuminating the uneven forest floor until they find a clearing far enough away from the road that Jeno deems it safe to stop.

“Do we have any food?” Jaemin wonders, digging through one of the packs. Jeno joins him, taking stock of their remaining supplies. It’s not much: ambrosia, nectar, the rest of Donghyuck’s medical supplies, a couple of extra shirts, and a few snacks. They divvy up the food and try their best to make themselves comfortable on the hard ground as Donghyuck tends to Jaemin and Jeno’s minor injuries, as well as his own.

“Do you think you could have some ambrosia without burning up?” Donghyuck asks Renjun.

“Maybe a little,” says Renjun, “but not much.” Donghyuck passes him half an ambrosia square along with a few of Jeno’s mom’s cookies.

Jeno’s stomach drops.  _ His mom.  _ “Oh no,” he frets, leaning back against a tree and letting his head thunk against the rough bark. “If my mom finds out about the exploded car, she’s going to freak. Gods, she’s probably already so worried.”

“Maybe you could send an Iris message to let her know you’re okay?” suggests Jaemin.

Considering his flashlight with a frown, Jeno shakes his head. “I don’t have any way to make a rainbow. Maybe we can find a way to get a message to her tomorrow—”

Donghyuck stands abruptly, face hidden in the shadow beyond the glow of the flashlight. “While you’re busy worrying about your wonderful, caring mother, I’m going to find something useful to do. Firewood, maybe.” Without another word, he marches into the trees.

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Idiot. How are you going to find anything without a light?”

“Did I say something wrong?” wonders Jeno, staring into the darkness where Donghyuck had disappeared.

“Go talk to him,” urges Renjun with a yawn. “And take first watch while you’re at it, I’m going to sleep.” With that, he drops his head onto Jaemin’s thigh and closes his eyes.

“Talk to him,” echoes Jaemin with an encouraging smile. “Give him a chance to trust you.”

“Okay,” Jeno agrees, pointing his flashlight at the ground and following the trail of broken twigs and flattened underbrush.

He finds Donghyuck in a smaller clearing, illuminated by the silver moonlight breaking through the canopy overhead. He sits on a fallen log, moodily picking the raisins out of his trail mix and tossing them across the clearing. Despite the low light, each one lands perfectly in a hole in the trunk.

“Some lucky squirrel is going to hit the jackpot,” Jeno remarks.

With a snort, Donghyuck flicks his wrist, sending another raisin sailing through the air. “At least someone gets a bit of good luck.”

After a moment of hesitation, Jeno crosses the clearing and takes a seat on the log, clicking off the flashlight and tilting his head to gaze through the gap in the leaves at the starry sky, searching for the constellations Dejun taught him.

“I suppose you’re here to interrogate me,” grumbles Donghyuck.

“Who, me?” says Jeno mildly. “I’m just here to make sure you don’t get murdered in a dark forest while collecting firewood. Although,” he adds as Donghyuck lets out a reluctant chuckle, “if you wanted to talk, I would listen.”

Donghyuck sighs, his nimble fingers picking through the ziplock bag of trail mix for any remaining raisins. “Yeah. I’ll talk. I’m sorry I blew up at you like that. I’m glad you have a mother who loves you, a home to go back to. And it’s not your fault I don’t.” 

Keeping his gaze trained on the sky, Jeno sets a comforting hand on Donghyuck’s thigh, inviting him to continue.

“Mark remembers more about mom than I do. He says she was beautiful, he says I have her smile. I barely remember anything because she gave us up for adoption when I was three and Mark was four. She was really young—you saw the form Apollo likes to take. She was barely nineteen when Mark was born, and then I came along less than a year later. I guess Apollo stuck around and helped out for a while, but you know how gods are. Once he stopped coming around, I guess things just got too hard.” He places his hand over Jeno’s squeezing gently. “My childhood memories are of being bounced around the foster care system in Florida. We never stayed with any one family for long, because at least once a year there would be an incident—snakes creeping into our bedroom in the middle of the night, a flock of crazed pigeons attacking us on a picnic, something at school getting destroyed—and our foster parents would decide we were more trouble than we were worth.

“Things started getting worse after Mark turned twelve. Crazy things started happening more and more often, and we were always blamed for them. We got kicked out of more schools than I can count. Our social worker was having trouble finding anyone to take us in. Eventually, they sent us to a boarding school for trouble children in Fort Lauderdale, but one of the teachers tried to kill us—I think she must have been a gorgon—and we ran away just before Mark’s thirteenth birthday.

“That was when dad started sending us signs. We’d find notes on golden paper with hints or riddles—haikus, mostly. He sent us our bows too, so we were able to fend off monster attacks. The clues lead us up the East coast until we ran into a satyr, who took us the rest of the way to camp. We’ve been there ever since.”

Jeno finally lowers his eyes from the sky, turning his hand in Donghyuck’s grip to interlock their fingers. He has no words of comfort, nothing that would be of any value to Donghyuck.  _ I’m sorry  _ won’t fix anything. Saying  _ it’ll be okay _ doesn’t make it true. All he can offer is his presence, a silent promise.

_ Your mom may have abandoned you, but I won’t. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's a demigod au without at least one tragic backstory?


	7. Public Transportation and Other Horrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: my only knowledge about these midwestern towns is from google

The next morning, Jeno awakes with a tree root sticking into his back, a chilly layer of dew making his clothes cling to his skin, and Jaemin’s foot poking him in the stomach. With a groan, he shoves the sneaker away and squints up at the light filtering through the leaves above them.

“What time is it?” grumbles Jaemin, sitting up and pulling a stray leaf from his mouth with a scowl.

Jeno glances at his wrist before remembering he has a compass there, not a watch. “No idea, but probably time to go.”

“Five more minutes,” grunts Renjun from the cocoon of extra t-shirts he’s wrapped himself in.

“Finally, you’re awake!” All three boys turn to glare in the direction of the chipper voice. Donghyuck is perched on the lowest branch of an oak tree, like a cat, with his bow in hand and one leg dangling lazily toward the ground.

“It’s too early in the morning to deal with Robin Hood,” complains Renjun.

Donghyuck laughs, apparently pleased with the nickname, and tosses an acorn at Renjun's head. “Come on, my merry men, let’s hit the road.”

With no small amount of cursing, the boys pack up their meager belongings and trudge back toward the highway. 

The wreckage of the car is gone, the scorched pavement and occasional piece of shrapnel the only signs that it had ever been there. Jeno feels a deep pang in his gut as he looks at the blackened ground and bits of melted rubber; he should be more grateful that he and his friends made it out of the encounter with the hydra relatively unscathed, but the loss of their only means of transportation blew a hole in their plan as surely as it had blown a hole in the hydra. Besides, that car had been Jeno’s obsession for two full years. He’d coaxed it to life, only to destroy it.

A hand settles onto his shoulder, squeezing gently. He doesn’t have to turn to know it’s Donghyuck. Jaemin and Renjun approach on his other side, taking in the memory of the carnage. They stand side by side for a moment, then turn without a word to face the western horizon.

With no way to keep time, Jeno has no idea how long they walk. The cool haze of morning soon burns away under the sun as the trees occasionally give way to a few fields and orchards. 

“The highway has to lead to a town eventually, right?” huffs Jaemin, wiping sweat from his brow. He must be boiling in his denim jacket, but his pistols would make their little group of filthy teenagers even more suspicious.

As the sun reaches its peak in the sky, they finally stumble across civilization. To call it a town would be an exaggeration; Lucas, Iowa seems to be a sleepy little community of a few hundred people, modest houses and shops, and a couple of churches in the center. 

Jaemin, the least bedraggled of the four of them, ventures into a small convenience store for information and a few water bottles. “I don’t think they take too kindly to strangers,” he reports when he returns, passing out the water. “Either that or I just look like trouble. Maybe it’s the pink hair.”

“Or maybe it’s the fact that you're covered in dirt and scorch marks,” suggests Donghyuck. “What did you learn?”

“There’s not much here,” shrugs Jaemin, “but they do have a bus station.”

  
  
  
  


The barely-padded bus seat feels like heaven to Jeno’s weary limbs. 

“We aren’t suspicious,” Jaemin announces forcefully to the few other passengers, and their curious eyes immediately turn away.

“That’s such a good trick,” Jeno marvels.

“Thanks,” Jaemin grins. “Anyways, we’ll be in Creston in about an hour, and then we can catch a train further west.”

“Sounds good,” says Renjun. “Do you think they have lunch in Creston?”

“That depends on how much the train tickets cost,” Donghyuck says, surreptitiously counting their remaining cash.

“I’ll leave you in Iowa and use your ticket money to buy a sandwich,” threatens Renjun.

“We should be fine,” insists Jeno. “Besides, if worst comes to worst, Jaemin can just charmspeak someone into giving us a car.”

Jaemin winces. “I’d really rather not do that. Charmspeak wears off after a while, and as soon as they realize what happened, we’d be on the run as car thieves.”

“Sounds like fun,” says Donghyuck, digging the last of the cookies from his pack and tossing them to Renjun. “I’ve always wanted to be in a high-speed chase.” 

“Shut up,” grumbles Renjun, but the cookies seem to help his mood.

By the time they get to Creston, Jeno’s stomach is in open mutiny. “That leave-Donghyuck-in-Iowa-to-afford-lunch plan is sounding pretty good right now,” he admits.

“Shut it, Hammer Head,” protests Donghyuck. “Maybe we should just eat _you.”_

“Ooh, Donghyuck,” smirks Jaemin, “keep your kinks to yourself please.”

“I hate all of you,” complains Renjun, “Let’s just go find something to eat, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” mumbles Donghyuck, red-faced.

“I can probably talk someone into feeding us,” says Jaemin, cheerfully ignoring Donghyuck’s glare.

It’s easier than Jeno expects; all Jaemin has to do is give the owner of a small café a sob-story about being traveling orphans separated from their group, and five minutes later they’re seated at a cozy booth with heaping plates of sandwiches and pastries, free of charge.

“I can’t believe he bought that,” marvels Renjun, stuffing a donut into his mouth. “Your story had so many plot holes.”

“The story doesn’t matter,” says Jaemin smugly. “It’s all in the presentation.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “He’d have believed you if you told him we were crash-landed aliens.”

“Probably,” admits Jaemin, “but orphan is my go-to.”

“Did you ask where the train station is?” asks Jeno around a mouthful of grilled cheese.

“Yep,” confirms Jaemin, laying out a pamphlet on the table. “He keeps the schedules behind the counter. I guess they get a lot of travelers passing through.”

“How far can we get with the money we have left?” wonders Renjun.

“I guess we’ll find out,” says Donghyuck.

  
  
  


“We’ll be in Lincoln, Nebraska in about three hours,” Renjun says. “We should try to sleep.”

“I’m too stressed to sleep,” says Jaemin, running a hand through his tangled pink hair and glancing around the nearly-empty train car. “It’s been a suspiciously long time since we’ve had a monster attack. And I feel gross. I want a shower.”

“Suck it up, princess,” says Donghyuck. “We’re all gross, get used to it.”

He’s right. After two days of travel, all four of them look greasy and rumpled, even Jaemin, who usually looks like he stepped straight out of a shampoo commercial. Even so, Jeno notices three pretty girls in short skirts and fashionable tops on the opposite end of the train car stealing glances in their direction. One catches his eye and winks. He quickly looks away.

“Well, Jaemin, if you’re not going to sleep, you can keep watch,” says Renjun, bunching up his backpack to use as a pillow and leaning back against the window. 

“Yeah,” Donghyuck yawns, settling his head on Jeno’s shoulder. Jeno suddenly feels wide awake. 

Jaemin smirks at him. “That’s fine with me.”

As the hours pass, Jeno’s eyelids begin to feel heavier and heavier, the rhythmic sounds of machinery as relaxing as a lullaby. From the corner of his eye, in the back of his consciousness, Jeno notices the girls across the car moving closer, switching seats every ten minutes or so. It’s casual, almost unnoticeable, but something tugs at Jeno’s awareness. _Something’s wrong._

“Hey there pretty boy,” the tallest girl titters, fluttering her lashes at Jaemin. She’s even prettier up close, with warm cinnamon skin and full lips.

“Hey,” says Jaemin, blinking up at the girls.

“Oh, isn’t he just the cutest?” gushes the girl on the left, a blonde with vivid green eyes.

The third girl, a redhead with a sprinkle of freckles across her nose, giggles. “He looks good enough to eat.”

Alarm bells go off in Jeno’s head. He leaps to his feet, knocking Donghyuck off his shoulder, and flips open his pocketknife to sword form.

“What the—” yelps Donghyuck, blinking around blearily, but Jeno keeps his focus on the trio.

The girls turn to him in unison, hissing at the sight of his celestial bronze blade, and Jeno stares in horror. They’re no longer beautiful; their skin is a matching milky white, contrasting glowing red eyes and flaming hair. Their fingers are tipped with claws, and most bizarre of all, their legs are mismatched. Each monster has one shaggy donkey leg and one bronze prosthetic. 

“Oh, another one,” hisses the middle creature, exposing wicked fangs. “Put that sword away and give me a kiss.” She flutters her eyelashes at him, making the glow of her eyes flicker like a bloodred strobe light.

“No thanks,” Jeno snorts, and he lunges.

He slashes his blade across the first creature’s abdomen and she crumbles to dust with a strangled cry. The other two shriek with rage, pouncing with their claws outstretched. Jeno barely rolls to the side in time to avoid being shredded.

“Guys!” he shouts, scrambling to his feet. “A little help please?”

By now, the commotion has woken Renjun as well, but he, Donghyuck, and Jaemin simply stare at the monsters, eyes glassy. At Jeno’s shout, Jaemin seems to snap out of it, unholstering his guns and aiming at the nearest monster, but the other two boys seem completely entranced.

Gunshots rip through the train car. The monster looks down in horror at the twin holes blasted through her chest, then begins to disintegrate. Distracted, Jeno doesn’t notice the final monster lunging toward him until Jaemin screams, “Jeno, look out!”

A donkey hoof catches Jeno in the ribs, sending him flying backward. He slams into the row of seats and crumples to the floor, his sword clattering to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, Jeno can see Jaemin leveling his gun, but he can’t get a clear shot as the monster approaches Jeno.

“I will feast on your blood, demigod,” she cackles, grinning at him with those slavering fangs. 

“Not today, sorry.” Jeno whips his leg out, sweeping the monster off her mismatched legs and sending her tumbling in a pile of fur and bronze. He dives toward his fallen weapon, scooping it up and leveling the blade at the monster as he gets to his feet. “You really have to work on your flirting skills,” he says before bringing the sword down.

For one perfectly still moment, the demigods stare in silence at the dispersing dust, the only thing left of their attackers. Then, alarms blare, accompanied by the metallic screeching of the emergency brakes. The train lurches as it rapidly loses speed.

“Someone must have heard the gunshots,” Jaemin says. “We have to get out of here before the police arrive.”

“Those—” Renjun is still staring, shell-shocked, at the place where the final monster had crumbled. “Those were empousei. They—”

“You can give us a monster lore class later,” says Jeno. “First, let’s get off this train.”

  
  
  


The sun is setting over the flat horizon of Nebraska as they plunge into the farmland to the side of the tracks, pushing through stalks of corn as gently as they can to avoid leaving an obvious trail.

“Oh good,” says Renjun, “just what I’ve always wanted: to be stranded in the middle of endless cornfields.”

“At least it isn’t another forest,” Jaemin points out. “That was kind of spooky.”

“Farmland is spooky too,” argues Renjun. “Haven’t you ever seen Children of the Corn? And what about crop circles?”

“Crop circles are a hoax.”

“They are not!”

“Guys,” Jeno interrupts. “Enough. We have to figure out what to do. Do we even know where we are?”

“Lincoln can’t be too far away,” reasons Donghyuck. “We could probably walk there just by following the tracks.”

“We’ll have to wait until everything’s been cleared up after that fiasco,” says Renjun, “so I guess that means we sleep in the creepy cornfield and figure it out in the morning.”

“That’s as good a plan as any,” agrees Jeno. “Do you think we’re far enough away from the tracks?”

They set up camp as best they can, flattening a small area of corn stalks and trying to arrange them into some semblance of bedding. 

“I want a shower,” bemoans Jaemin, pulling on a relatively clean camp shirt and laying the dirty one on his patch of ground.

“Maybe it’ll rain tonight,” jokes Donghyuck, not bothering to put his shirt back on in the humid warmth of the summer night. 

“Those things,” Jeno says, keeping his eyes resolutely on his own prickly bed of corn stalks, “what did you call them? Empanadas?”

“ _Empousei,”_ corrects Renjun. “Empousa, singular. Hecate created them by combining animal and machine.”

“Hecate?” asks Jeno, remembering Kun, a son of the magic goddess he’d met at camp who had a passion for card tricks. “Isn’t she, like, one of the good guys?”

“Whether or not the gods are _good_ is a tricky question,” says Renjun, “but either way, their creations don’t always do what the gods want. They have a tendency to go rogue and eat demigods.”

“Like my dad’s automatons sometimes do,” notes Jeno.

“Exactly,” agrees Renjun. “Anyways, aside from having claws and fangs, empousei can charmspeak. They seduce male heroes and then drink their blood. I’ve never heard of any man resisting them like that without help.” He peers curiously at Jaemin and Jeno in the fading light.

“Charmspeak doesn’t work very well on other charmspeakers,” shrugs Jaemin. “That’s probably why I was able to snap out of it so easily.”

All eyes turn to Jeno, and he hopes that darkness has fallen enough to hide his burning cheeks. “Um, well,” he clears his throat, carefully avoiding looking at his friends’ faces. “I’m not really into girls. So maybe that had something to do with it.”

After a moment, Renjun nods. “That makes sense.”

“Thanks for being gay, Jeno,” adds Jaemin, poking him in the ribs. “It really saved our asses.”

Jeno allows himself to smile, letting out a breath of relief. “I can’t believe I would have died surrounded by useless hets.”

“I’m pan, I’ll have you know,” Jaemin argues, giving him a kick. “Don’t lump me in with the hets.” Jeno notices he sends a furtive look in Renjun’s direction.

“How dare you call me a het,” grouses Renjun. “I’m bi, bitch.”

“Me too,” adds Donghyuck. Jeno’s heart gives a funny little lurch in his chest.

“And a lot of good it did us,” says Jaemin, flopping down on the ground with a sigh. “Who’s taking the first watch?”

Jeno volunteers, still too shaken from the attack to consider closing his eyes. As his friends settle as comfortably as they can, he wraps his arms around his knees and gazes at the compass on his wrist in the watery light of the rising moon. The needle still points southwest, but maybe a bit more south than before. They must be getting closer, but he has a feeling they still have a long way to go. He still has no idea what might be waiting for them.

For the hundredth time, the words of the prophecy echo in his mind.

_Into darkness four shall go,_

_Hammer, dove, owl, and bow,_

_At god’s request to god’s design,_

_Where rock and water intertwine,_

_To give up what they call their own—_

_“And bring the captured safely home._ ” The soft voice makes Jeno jump; he must have been speaking the lines out loud without realizing. “I like that line,” notes Donghyuck, sitting up and picking stray bits of corn husk from his hair. The moonlight barely catches the edges of his features, tracing the line of his cheek, the tip of his nose, the dip of his clavicle. “It’s a hopeful ending, don’t you think?”

“I guess,” admits Jeno. He must have lost track of time; the full moon is high overhead, staring like a single unblinking eye. “I wish I knew what it all meant. Prophecies suck.”

“Amen,” agrees Donghyuck. “Where in Hades do rock and water intertwine?”

A few minutes pass in silent contemplation until Donghyuck speaks again. “ _To give up what they call their own…_ could that mean the car? You had to sacrifice something important to you to save us.”

“Maybe,” Jeno considers. “That kind of makes sense, actually.”

“No need to sound so surprised; I can be smart on occasion.”

Jeno snorts. “That makes one of us.”

“Shut up, Jeno, you’re a genius,” argues Donghyuck. “One of these days I’ll repay you for saving my life so many times.”

“You’ve saved mine, too,” Jeno points out.

Donghyuck ignores him. “I’ll take over watch, you look half dead.”

“I’m fine,” Jeno protests, but Donghyuck shifts close enough to shove his shoulders, forcing him to lay down.

“Sleep,” he insists.

“Fine,” Jeno relents, the exhaustion he’d kept at bay crashing over him at last. “Goodnight, Sunshine.”

Before his heavy eyelids fall, Jeno catches Donghyuck’s soft smile. “Sleep tight, Hammer Head.”

  
  
  
  


A woman lounges on a velvet sofa, closely examining her reflection in a gilded mirror. She looks up, giving Jeno a brilliant smile.

His brain nearly short circuits. The woman’s appearance is elusive, just a bit too much to understand. Like a sunset, she grows more beautiful with every moment Jeno stares at her. For a moment, her heart-shaped smile seems familiar, but he can’t be sure, can’t place the color of her hair or the length of her nose. It’s only when he focuses on her eyes, unfathomable and seeming to change color from second to second, that he realizes who this woman must be.

“You’re Jaemin’s mom. Aphrodite.”

The goddess’s eyes glimmer with amusement. “Yes indeed. I’m pleased that my son finally has a chance for a quest; I have you to thank for that, I suppose.”

“But,” Jeno says slowly. His brain seems to be moving at half speed, too busy trying to comprehend Aphrodite’s appearance, “doesn’t that make you, like, my step-mom or something?”

Aphrodite’s lips twist with displeasure. “In a manner of speaking, son of Hephaestus. Children of my husband are not often… particularly fond of me, but I bear you no ill will. My misfortune is not your fault.”

“Misfortune?”

Aphrodite sighs. “I always get a bad rep in the stories, you know. Aphrodite, fickle and unfaithful, isn’t that right?”

Jeno figures it would be wisest not to answer.

“But try to see it from my point of view, young demigod. I am the goddess of love; love is my life source, my very existence, yet I was forced into a loveless marriage because Zeus feared that my presence would cause dissent among the gods. Does that seem fair to you?”

Slowly, Jeno shakes his head.

Aphrodite leans back in her seat, looking him over carefully. “Hera hates the children of her husband. She despises reminders of Zeus’ constant unfaithfulness. I have no such petty feud, son of Hephaestus. I will help you on your quest.”

“Why?” Jeno asks. “Not that I’m not grateful, of course, but why are you taking such an interest in this quest? Is it because of Jaemin?”

“Jaemin does not need my help,” Aphrodite says, waving a hand dismissively. “I have no doubt that he will write himself a riveting love story one day. You, on the other hand, might need a bit of a push.”

“What kind of push?” Jeno ventures tentatively.

“If I told you,” Aphrodite titters, “it would spoil the fun. However, I will offer you some advice: you can’t think your way out of every situation. Not everything is a machine, fixable with logic and the right tools. The moment will come when you will have to make a difficult decision, and when that moment comes, you must listen to your heart.”

Jeno furrows his eyebrows, unconvinced but unwilling to argue with a goddess. With a long-suffering sigh, Aphrodite leans forward.

“Listen to me, young hero. Love is an incredible motivator. Heroes have done great things in the name of love. Just look at Orpheus, braving the terrors of the underworld for Eurydice. Look at Achilles and Patrocles, who would protect each other with their lives.”

“Didn’t all those people die horrible deaths, though?” says Jeno nervously.

“That’s beside the point,” Aphrodite insists. “The point is, Jeno Lee, love can make you stronger than you could ever believe. Embrace the power, do not push it away.”

“I… okay, sure,” Jeno says, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation.

“Good,” says Aphrodite, flashing her perfect smile. “I will return you to your friends, and send you on with my blessing.”

“Thank you, Lady Aphrodite,” seems the only reasonable response.

The goddess raises a finger. “One more thing, little hero; I have a message for my son. Tell Jaemin he has all the tools he needs to secure transportation. Remind him that mortal memories can be… easily persuaded.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so much foreshadowing in this chapter my friends >:)


	8. Jaemin Begins His Career As A Car Thief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i start back at uni on wednesday so updates might slow down. im not sure what my homework load will be like but i'll try to write as much as i can! anyways, i hope you enjoy this chapter<3

Aphrodite’s blessing turns out to be restocked backpacks—complete with ambrosia, nectar, a couple hundred dollars in cash, and a few golden drachma—and a full makeover for each member of the group. For a moment, Jeno thinks he’s woken in the wrong place; instead of bedraggled demigods, Jeno finds himself surrounded by fashionably dressed teenagers. It takes him a moment to recognize his friends without their orange t-shirts.

Jaemin’s hair is once again the picture of blow-dried perfection. His empousei-slashed clothing has been replaced with designer jeans and a simple white t-shirt, his denim jacket still on the ground but considerably more clean. Renjun, on the other hand, is tugging at the sleeves of an oversized yellow hoodie—much too hot for June. Jeno’s breath catches when he looks at Donghyuck. He’s dressed simply in a short-sleeved black button-up and jeans, but the shirt has several buttons undone and the jeans are ripped in several places. For some reason, he’s also wearing rose-tinted sunglasses, which he takes off and studies curiously, still blinking sleep from his eyes.

“Oh my gods, Jeno,” snorts Renjun. “You look like a male stripper on the way to a bachelorette party.”

Jeno looks down at himself and groans. He’s wearing a black suit, except several key pieces are missing—namely, the shirt and the jacket. The vest leaves his arms completely exposed, and the plunging neckline leaves little to the imagination. His feet, he notices with horror, are encased in leather boots that reach nearly to his knees.

“I take it you met my mom?” Jaemin says, obviously trying hard not to laugh.

“ _Di immortales_ , Jeno,” Donghyuck snickers, reaching over to squeeze Jeno’s bicep. “If this hero thing doesn’t work out, you could have a promising career in the escort business.”

Face heating, Jeno pulls away, tugging the silk tie from around his neck. “Let’s hope the hero thing works out.”

As they trudge through the fields back toward the train tracks, Jeno recounts the barest details of his dream, leaving out Aphrodite’s speech on the power of love but reciting her advice for Jaemin as accurately as he can.

“Mortal memories?” Jaemin repeats, eyebrows furrowing. “She can’t be serious. I’m not that powerful.”

“Don’t be stupid, Jaem,” Renjun protests, tugging at the strings of his hoodie. “You could tell the rain to fall upwards and it’d try.”

“Since when are my ears pierced?” Donghyuck interrupts, fiddling with a feather-shaped charm dangling from his left earlobe. With a gentle tug, the earring comes off in his hand. “Oh thank the gods, it’s a clip-on.”

“Kind of suits you,” admits Jaemin as Donghyuck studies the tiny piece of gold.

“You think?” mumbles Donghyuck distractedly, turning the charm in his fingers. With a pop, the feather expands into a slender rod tipped with a wickedly sharp point— an arrow. “Woah!”

“There’s a note,” Renjun notices, pointing to a slip of paper hanging from the arrow shaft.

“ _This arrow is from the workshop of my husband. Use it wisely,”_ Donghyuck reads. “That’s not very helpful. What does it do?”

“Probably something cool, if Hephaestus made it,” says Renjun as Donghyuck tugs the strap of his drawstring backpack, which transforms into his quiver. After one last distrusting look, he tucks the arrow into the quiver and restores the disguise.

“Maybe it turns into a car and I won’t have to charmspeak anyone?” suggests Jaemin hopefully.

“Doubtful,” says Jeno. “Better start warming up that silver tongue of yours. We’re going to need it.”

It takes them around an hour of trekking along the tracks to reach the end of the farmland. Although intimidating to look at, Jeno finds that his new boots are more comfortable than he expected. After a minimal amount of begging, Renjun relinquishes his hoodie to Jeno, leaving him in a thin white undershirt. The hoodie is a bit tight across his shoulders and much too warm for the weather, but it beats walking into the city with half his torso exposed.

“We’re way less likely to be noticed here,” Jaemin points out with satisfaction as they enter the city. “Much better than a small town.”

“Hopefully no one will notice if just one car goes missing,” jokes Donghyuck.

“Shut it,” snaps Jaemin. “I have a plan. Sort of. Let’s head for the residential part of town.”

They leave the bustling city center behind, Jaemin in the lead as the shops and office buildings give way to homes and lawns. 

“What exactly are we looking for?” wonders Renjun as the sun reaches its peak in the sky. “And did your mom put any food in those fancy packs?”

“We’re looking for some rich bastard with more cars than he needs,” replies Jaemin, tossing Renjun a granola bar.

“Look who’s Robin Hood now,” laughs Donghyuck.

“Here we go,” cheers Jaemin as they turn a corner onto a street lined with larger, more elaborate houses and sprawling gardens. “Look, this one’s got a four-car garage and they’ve still got one parked in the driveway. You guys wait outside, I’ll be right back.” He sets his jaw and marches toward the imposing front door.

Jeno can’t see whoever opens the door, nor can he see Jaemin’s face, but it only takes a few seconds of conversation before Jaemin is ushered into the mansion.

“I hope he knows what he’s doing,” worries Renjun as the door swings shut. “If not, we’ll probably get arrested.”

“Keep your ears open for police sirens and hope for the best,” suggests Donghyuck.

They wait in tense silence, glancing nervously up and down the street. Thanks to Aphrodite, they no longer look like filthy homeless kids, but they still stick out in the polished neighborhood. Finally, when Jeno’s nerves have been frayed nearly to the breaking point, the door opens again and Jaemin steps out with a self-satisfied smile.

“It worked?” Renjun inquires as Jaemin strolls toward them across the lush lawn. 

In answer, Jaemin pulls his hand from his pocket and spins a keyring on his finger. “Black SUV, should be in the garage, which I also have the code for.”

“Damn, I kind of wanted the sports car,” complains Donghyuck as Jaemin punches in the code.

“Suck it up. This is more practical and less conspicuous.”

Jeno closes his eyes and presses his palms to the hood of their new ride, sensing the machinery inside. “475 horsepower, 26-gallon gas tank about half full, only 18,000 miles on it. Pretty nice,” he admits, opening his eyes.

“If you’re done being a nerd,” says Jaemin, tossing him the key and swinging open the passenger side door, “we should get going.”

“Just to be sure,” ventures Donghyuck as they pile into the car, “we aren’t going to be on the run as car thieves?”

“We shouldn’t be,” confirms Jaemin, a bit uncertain. “If my charmspeak works the way I meant it to, Mr. Williams will remember selling his SUV for a reasonable price to a very handsome young man and not give it a second thought.

Renjun snorts. “Holy Hera, Jaemin, you’ve got nerve, I’ll give you that.”

Spirits are high as they make their way back to the interstate, continuing southwest. Jeno finds himself laughing along, pushing his worries about the quest and the prophecy and Aphrodite’s cryptic warnings to the back of his mind.

“Are you getting tired?” asks Jaemin several hours later as the sun starts to sink into late afternoon. Donghyuck and Renjun have fallen asleep on the backseat, heads lolling against each other. “You’ve been driving for nearly five hours.”

Jeno rubs his hand across his face, blinking the weariness from his eyes. “A bit. Do you know where we are?”

“I think we passed the border of Colorado a while ago,” says Jaemin, gazing out the window at the barren landscape, dotted with sagebrush and a few trees. “You should take a break.”

“We need to stop for gas soon, anyway,” Jeno agrees. As if in response to his statement, a sign comes into view on the side of the highway, advertising a gas station at the next exit.

“What’s going on,” mumbles Donghyuck sleepily as Jeno maneuvers the SUV onto the exit ramp.

“We’re stopping for gas,” Jeno replies. “Maybe we can find some dinner as well.”

“Dinner?” repeats Renjun, the mention of food waking him immediately.

Instead of a small town, as Jeno had expected, the exit seems to lead only to a gas station and the attached run-down convenience store. It doesn’t seem like the area gets much business, but Jeno figures the gas station must be there for long-haul truckers and the like.

Jaemin squints up at the sign, the name lit up in red letters above surprisingly low gas prices. “Who would name their business ‘Herpies’?”

“I think it says Harper’s,” says Renjun uncertainly, tilting his head to the side in an attempt to make sense of the letters. “Or Hippies?”

“Yes yes, we’re all dyslexic,” says Donghyuck. “Can we go get food now?”

Jaemin digs the money from Aphrodite out of his pack and hands each of them a ten-dollar bill. “Go wild. How much do we need for gas, Jeno?”

“Around forty should be fine since the price is so low. We don’t have a card though, so we’ll have to pay inside.”

Jaemin hands Jeno a wad of cash. “Go pay, and get yourself a donut of something while you’re at it. I’ll fill up.”

Shooting Jaemin a grateful smile, Jeno follows the other two inside.

A bell jingles half-heartedly as he pushes the door open. The place has an eerie air of abandonment, despite the glow of the fluorescent lights and the faint hum of the single, half-empty soda cooler. The smell of dust permeates the air, along with a faint scent that reminds Jeno of the pegasus-feather pillows in his bunk back at camp. Donghyuck and Renjun scrounge through the meager supplies of junk food. Most shelves and racks are picked clean like a carcass stripped by vultures, though Jeno notices the cheese-flavored snacks are untouched.

“Um, hello?” Jeno calls, stepping up to the deserted counter. Immediately, a withered old woman appears from the back room, scurrying to take her place behind the cash register. She’s hunched with age, barely reaching the bottom of Jeno’s chin, with a red apron tied around her waist. A name tag is pinned to her chest, but Jeno can’t make out the letters. Maybe it’s just his dyslexia acting up, but it looks like chicken scratch.

“Yes,” she croaks, her raspy voice reminding Jeno of the ravens that often roost in the eaves of the Hades cabin. She tilts her head to one side, then the other, studying him with beady black eyes. “Yes yes, boy wants to buy? Buy snacks? Coffee? Gasoline?”

“Gas, please,” Jeno requests, before the woman can name every item in the store. “Forty dollars worth, please.” He hands over the cash and watches the woman’s gnarled hands punch the necessary buttons. Just as she hands him his receipt, a second, nearly identical woman appears at her shoulder.

“Customers!” the newcomer shrieks, startling Jeno so much that he drops the receipt. Renjun and Donghyuck look over in alarm.

“Yes, Teriyaki,” the first confirms. “Customers!”

“Customers?”

“Customers?!"

“Customers!”

With each cry, another shriveled old woman appears behind the registers, crowding and pushing like a flock of pigeons around a dropped french fry.

 _Okay,_ Jeno thinks, _that’s a little weird._

The second woman, apparently named Teriyaki, tilts her head back and inhales deeply through her hooked nose. “Smell!” she jabs the first woman in the side with her elbow. “Nuggets, smell!”

The first woman—Nuggets?—follows suit, her nostrils flaring. “Not customers,” she decides, prompting a chorus of disappointed twittering from the others. “Nope, nope. Demigods! Demigods for dinner!”

_Okay, definitely not what I wanted to hear._

With incredible agility, Nuggets launches herself over the counter, her arms extended—no, not _arms._ Blue feathers plume out on either side in huge wings tipped with clawed hands. Jeno stumbles back, knocking over a display rack of sunglasses as he fumbles for his weapon.

“Jeno!” Donghyuck cries, leveling his bow, but it’s no good; the swirling mass of feathers around Jeno leaves no clear shot, and the store is far too small for such a long-range weapon. Cursing, Donghyuck draws his bronze knife and charges, side by side with Renjun.

“I’m so stupid!” Renjun laments. “It’s not _Harper’s,_ it’s _Harpies!”_

There are cleaning and security harpies at camp, temperamental demon chicken grannies who have no qualms about eating a demigod caught breaking curfew, but those are still mostly tame. The flock that surrounds them now, a multicolored hurricane of feathers, have a wild, hungry gleam in their eyes as they swoop toward their prey.

Jeno’s sword expands in his hand just in time to save him from being disemboweled by a set of talons. He slashes upward, sending one green-feathered wing flying.

“No! Barbeque!” screams Nuggets as her sister crumbles to dust. “You will die, half-blood!”

“Not on my watch," growls Renjun, stepping into a thrust and skewering Nuggets like a kebab mid-dive.

“Thanks,” Jeno gasps as Renjun hauls him to his feet.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Guys!” Donghyuck shouts from the other side of the store, backed into a corner by the three remaining harpies. “A little help, please?” He slashes with his knife, catching one harpy in the belly and disintegrating it into dust, but the short reach of his blade leaves him at a disadvantage. Teriyaki’s claws rake across Donghyuck’s extended forearm and he cries out in pain, dropping the dagger

“Hey birdbrain,” Renjun taunts, catching the attention of the other harpy, “your plumage is pathetic!”

“DIE!” the harpy shrieks, her wings sweeping a cascade of crackers onto the floor as she attacks.

Teriyaki seems undeterred, perched atop an empty snack stand with her wings extended to keep Donghyuck trapped against the wall. She leers down at him, showing pointed teeth.

Jeno arrives just in time, piercing his sword through her back just as her taloned feet leave their perch. She breaks apart, showering Donghyuck with yellowish powder.

“Gross,” he complains with a sneeze, sending up a plume of monster dust.

The bell over the door jingles and Jeno spins on his heel, leveling his blade at a bemused Jaemin.

“Oh wow,” Jaemin says, taking in the destroyed store. “Was the customer service that bad?”

  
  
  


It takes Jeno approximately thirty-six seconds to pick the lock on the cash register, finding about sixty dollars aside from his own forty, along with a few golden drachmas. With the sun sinking toward the horizon and three out of four demigods weary from battle, they decide to spend the night camped out on the floor of the convenience store. Having a roof over their heads is a marked improvement from the past few nights, and they even find a few blankets and U-shaped travel pillows among the store’s wares. 

“This is the height of luxury,” Jaemin sighs, sinking down with his back to the counter and ripping open a bag of Cheetos.

“Sure,” Renjun snorts, not looking up from the task of dabbing nectar onto Donghyuck’s injured arm. “Exactly what I’ve prayed for my whole life.”

“I can’t believe I was so useless in that fight,” Donghyuck mumbles, leaning his head back against the door of the soda cooler with more force than necessary.

“Shut up, you weren’t useless,” scolds Renjun, his role as substitute healer not stopping him from smacking Donghyuck upside the head.

“Renjun’s right,” Jeno agrees. “If anyone was useless, it was Jaemin.”

“Jeno, darling,” Jaemin croons in his sweetest voice, “you should poke yourself in the eye.”

Jeno’s hand makes it halfway to his face before he stops himself. The others burst out laughing and Jeno joins in, the exhaustion and adrenaline making it hard to stop. “Pass me the Cheetos,” he finally wheezes as his giggles subside.

“Get your own,” Jaemin protests, “there’s plenty.”

The four of them feast on cheese-flavored junk food and cold soda, relishing the lack of mosquitos. By the time they curl up on the smooth linoleum floor with their stolen blankets, Jeno feels almost hopeful. They’ve been away from camp for days now, and all of them are still alive.

Maybe they’ll all stay that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, please come yell at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/see_thevision) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/see_thevision)  
> i also have an art acc on [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/riahsvision/) if youd like to check it out


	9. The Dangers of Paleontology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (for the sake of the story, please pretend that the Rocky Mountain Dinosaur Resource Center is much bigger than it actually is)

In his dream, Jeno finds himself back at camp, in the underground workshop beneath Cabin Nine. Yukhei stands at a worktable, but his hands are unmoving at his sides as he stares unfocused at the scattered tools and parts.

“Yukhei? Are you down here?” calls a sleepy voice, and Ryujin appears with Changbin at her heels, both in pajamas.

“Sorry,” says Yukhei, snapping out of his trance. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” assures Changbin, resting a comforting hand on Yukhei’s shoulder, “we just wanted to come and check on you.”

“I’m fine,” sighs Yukhei, dragging a hand across his eyes. “Just—”

“Worried?” Ryujin supplies. “We are too, but moping around won’t help Jeno on his quest.” She looks down at the table, and Jeno notices for the first time the huge sheet of chainmail spread across half of it. The links are so small that it almost looks like regular fabric, except for the metallic gleam.

_ A burial shroud,  _ Jeno realizes. When a camper receives a quest, their cabins undertake the task of making a shroud, just in case the hero doesn’t return alive. He’s hit with a sudden wave of guilt for not reassuring his cabin about his safety.

“We can send him an Iris message in the morning to check on him,” suggests Changbin. “But for now, let’s go to bed, okay?”

Yukhei nods, giving the shroud one last look before following the others toward the entrance back to their cabin.

The dream shifts. The moon rises high over a chasm in the ground, stretching as far as the eye can see, and then darkness closes around him. He’s underground, the scent of wet rock and something foul, like a boys’ locker room after a six-hour football game. The stone tunnel opens into a wide chasm, illuminated by a glowing sphere floating in the center. Criss-crossing lines of light form the shape, glowing in a perfect pattern of triangles and six-pointed stars where the lines intersect. Jeno drifts closer, feeling a weight drop into his stomach as he catches sight of what the sphere contains.

The familiar furry form of Bongshik restlessly paws at the curved boundary of her prison, like a hamster in a ball. She mewls in frustration, her claws bouncing harmlessly against the wall of energy.

“Now now, kitty,” a gruff voice chastises. A huge figure stirs in the shadows, eyes glinting in the magical light—no, not  _ eyes,  _ Jeno realizes. One eye glares from the center of a hideous face. The cyclops grins, displaying cracked teeth and black gums. “Settle down.”

Jeno clenches his teeth against a curse. The thought of his precious pet trapped by a monster makes his blood boil.  _ This is just a dream,  _ he reminds himself.  _ There’s nothing I can do now. _

Even so, Bongshik seems to look straight at him, her bronze eyes gleaming like pennies, the only hint of her true form. 

“I’m coming for you,” Jeno promises. “I’ll get you out of there.”

Seemingly satisfied, the cat curls up on the bottom of the enclosure with her head resting on her paws, her tail flicking back and forth lazily.

  
  
  
  


Jeno wakes with a gasp, sitting bolt upright and taking a moment to make sense of his surroundings. Destroyed convenience store, scattered harpy feathers, his friends just beginning to awaken—except for Donghyuck, that is, who is perched on the counter with a bag of Doritos.

“Morning,” he greets, raising his eyebrow at Jeno’s startled expression. 

“The Grand Canyon,” Jeno gasps, clutching at the compass on his wrist.

“Excuse me?”

“We have to go to the Grand Canyon. I saw it in my dream,” explains Jeno as Renjun yawns and gives Jaemin a hard kick to wake him up.

“ _ Where rock and water intertwine,”  _ Renjun remembers, blinking the fog of sleep from his eyes. “That makes sense.”

“Great,” groans Jaemin, his neck popping impressively as he tilts his head from side to side.

“There’s more,” Jeno says grimly, launching into the details of his dream. The mention of the cyclops snaps Jaemin to full wakefulness. 

“I thought the cyclopi worked for the gods,” he says, frowning.

“Some do,” Renjun confirms. “They run the undersea forges, but not all of them. There are wild cyclopi, the kind that live in caves and like to eat sheep, goats, and demigods.”

“Lovely,” Donghyuck notes. “But how could a cyclops get its hands on an automaton?”

Renjun shakes his head, gray eyes stormy beneath furrowed brows. “A lot of cyclopi are good with machinery, but to capture an automaton without disabling it… I don’t know. And that cage sounds more like the work of Hephaestus than a monster.”

“But my dad has no idea what happened to Bongshik,” Jeno points out. 

“There’s something we’re missing,” agrees Renjun. “Some piece of the puzzle we haven’t found yet. But at least we have a destination now.”

“Right,” agrees Donghyuck, slipping off the counter and slinging his bow and quiver over his shoulder. “We should get going.”

They load their packs with as many cheesy snacks as they can, then stuff a few more in the glove box just to be safe.

“Shotgun,” Donghyuck declares, shoving Jaemin out of the way.

“Hey!” Jaemin protests, turning a betrayed expression on him. Donghyuck merely sticks his tongue out at Jaemin before sliding into the passenger seat.

Renjun rolls his eyes. “Honestly, it’s like babysitting a bunch of ten-year-olds.” 

Jeno smiles halfheartedly, swinging his door open but freezing in place when the air shimmers behind him. He’d completely forgotten the first part of his dream until the holographic figure of Yukhei appears in a rainbow mist.

“Jeno!” Yukhei cries, his face splitting into a relieved grin. “You’re alive!”

“Yeah, man,” Jeno confirms. “We’re all still alive if you’d believe it.”

“Thank the gods,” chimes a second voice, and Ryujin’s face appears next to Yukhei’s shoulder.

“Is Donghyuck okay?” demands Mark, pushing Yukhei aside to peer through the mist.

“I’m fine,” confirms Donghyuck, scrambling out of the car to see his brother. The other two follow suit, crowding close to Jeno to make themselves seen.

Other campers from the Apollo, Aphrodite, Athena, and Hephaestus cabins take their turns, double-checking that the quest members are in one piece. Finally, Yukhei shoves his way back to the forefront. “Alright freeloaders, clear off! I paid for this Iris message, I intend to speak to my brother!” He turns back to Jeno. “We’ve only got another minute. How is the quest going? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Jeno thinks about Aphrodite’s warnings, the vision of the cyclops, the inexplicable workmanship of the cage. “It’s going fine,” he replies. “Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be home before you know it.”

  
  
  
  


The mood of the group is more subdued than the previous day as the car speeds through the shrubs and sagebrush, the Rocky Mountains looming on the horizon. Like Jeno, the others must be thinking of those they’d left behind at camp, wondering when they’ll see them again and what might happen before then. The words of Aphrodite swirl together with the lines of the prophecy in Jeno’s mind.  _ Give up what they call their own… you will have to make a difficult decision… into darkness four shall go… love can make you stronger than you could ever believe. _

In the passenger seat, Donghyuck is more motionless than Jeno has ever seen him, gazing absently at the barren scene beyond the windshield. He’s long since discarded the pink sunglasses and the sunlight turns his eyes almost amber. His fingers fiddle with something in his lap—a tiny golden feather, Jeno realises. The gift from Aphrodite.

At about two in the afternoon, when Jeno’s hands are beginning to cramp from gripping the wheel, Renjun suggests stopping for food.

“As much as I love Cheetos,” he grimaces, “I think I might turn orange if I eat any more.”

“Me too,” agrees Jaemin, “and it looks like we’re back in civilization.” He nods to the window, where the sagebrush has been replaced by a more urban landscape.

“Okay,” Jeno says, realizing how hungry he is for the first time. “Where are we?” he adds, glancing at the sign they pass as they enter the town.

“I think it says Woodland Park,” replies Renjun, “but I could be wrong.”

“I don’t care where we are as long as they have food,” declares Donghyuck.

“Oh my gods!” Renjun yelps suddenly, pressing his face to the window. “They have a dinosaur museum. _ ” _

“Are you going to eat a fossil for lunch?” snorts Jaemin.

“I bet they have a cafeteria or snackbar or something,” Renjun points out. He leans forward between the seats to turn imploring eyes on Jeno. “We have extra money from the harpies’ store, right? Can we go,  _ please?” _

“I don’t know,” wavers Jeno, trying to resist the pull of Renjun’s puppy eyes. Honestly, sometimes Jeno thinks Renjun must have his own form of charmspeak. “I don’t want to waste time.”

“You need a break, Jeno,” Donghyuck chimes in. “A couple of hours looking at dusty bones won’t do any harm. Besides, I could go for some dino nuggets.”

Jaemin perks up. “You think they have those?”

Completely outnumbered, Jeno relents and makes a U-turn, maneuvering into the parking lot.

The woman at the admissions desk looks over their sleep-rumped clothes with a raised eyebrow, but she takes their money and hands them four pamphlets without comment.

“Which way to the cafeteria,” demands Jaemin as they hurry across the lobby. 

Renjun unfolds his map, gray eyes flicking back and forth across the paper as though first noting every exit. “Turn left.”

To the delight of the demigods, the cafeteria does in fact offer dino nuggets.

“This is the best day of my life,” Renjun proclaims, gesturing with a now-headless triceratops.

“Still plenty of time for something to go wrong,” Jaemin reminds him.

“Don’t say that,” Donghyuck groans, smacking Jaemin on the back of the head, “you’ll jinx us.”

A knot of worry settles in Jeno’s stomach as he glances around the cafeteria, but he sees nothing out of the ordinary. There are a few families, an elderly couple sipping mugs of tea, and a group of kids in matching lanyards who seem to be from a school group or summer camp—the usual crowd you’d expect to find at a museum in the middle of the day.

When they finish eating, Renjun drags them to the nearest exhibit, his eyes sparkling in wonder as he stares at the reconstructed skeletons. Jeno’s never been particularly interested in paleontology, and he gives up on reading the plaques after the first ridiculously long scientific species name, but he has to admit it’s pretty cool. Gazing up at the bones of creatures large enough to crush a person with one foot is oddly comforting for some reason; it makes his newfound world of gods and monsters seem not quite so unbelievable. A skull full of razor teeth rests in a glass case, and Jeno remembers the hydra. Maybe mythology and science have more in common than mortals want to believe.

“I’m bored.” Donghyuck wanders over to hook his chin over Renjun’s shoulder. “Renjun, tell us something interesting.”

“Centaurs have two ribcages,” replies Renjun, not taking his eyes from the three-toed footprint preserved in stone.

Donghyuck’s face contorts in disgust. “Ew. Never speak to me again.”

“Damn,” Jaemin breathes as they move to the next room, “those are some big lizards.”

‘Big’ is a bit of an understatement. The ceiling of the massive hall must be a good forty feet high to accommodate the skeleton in the center of the room, its long neck stretching proudly to the sky.

“Amphicoelias fragillimus,” murmured Renjun reverently, craning his neck to look first at the largest skeleton, then the smaller, but no less imposing, fossils scattered through the gallery. “Apatosaurus, triceratops, oh my gods! They even have a tyrannosaurus rex!”

“I recognize that name, at least,” says Donghyuck examining the long tail and huge teeth. “All I know about dinosaurs is Jurassic Park.”

“You’ll be disappointed when we get to the velociraptors, then,” says Renjun. “They were much smaller than portrayed in the movie.”

“Those were my favorite, though,” Jaemin complains.

Jeno points at the grinning skull of the tyrannosaurus. “Why not this one? It looks like you.” Jaemin bares his teeth and tucks his arms close to his chest in imitation of the skeleton, making Donghyuck burst into giggles.

“It’s like being the chaperone of an elementary school field trip,” Renjun grumbles.

“Says the one who lost his mind over dino nuggets,” snickers Donghyuck.

“So did you,” Jeno points out. 

Donghyuck opens his mouth to argue, but a child on the other side of the exhibit shrieks, “Doggy!” and a blur of gray knocks into Jeno with the force of a charging bull. For a moment, his vision is full of matted fur and sharp teeth, and then Donghyuck is there, yanking back on the wolf’s head just before its jaws close around Jeno’s throat.

Ignoring the stab of pain in his ribs, Jeno scrambles to his feet and unsheathes his sword, but Renjun gets there first. He shoves Donghyuck aside and slashes, but the celestial bronze blade passes straight through the wolf.

“What the—”

“No time,” gasps Donghyuck, blood beginning to soak through the black fabric of his shirt from a claw gash on his shoulder. “Look!”

More wolves stalk toward them, heads lowered and ears back. Jeno has no idea what the mortals see—wild dogs or regular wolves, maybe—but they flee in terror. The wolves pay no attention, their fierce eyes fixed on the demigods.

Jaemin’s pistols are in his hands, but the wolves creep around the edges of the walls and behind pedestals. “I can’t get a clear shot. We have to get to higher ground.” 

“Where—” Jeno’s question is answered before he finishes. Jaemin holsters his gun and leaps, somehow managing to grab onto the tyrannosaurus’s lower jaw and swing himself on top of the skull.

“This is the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,” Donghyuck yells, but he dashes toward the nearest glass display case and scales the side as Renjun follows Jaemin from the other direction, gripping vertebrae of the tail and back as he climbs.

A wolf lunges at Jeno, snarling, and he barely manages to get out of the way. The tyrannosaurus is already swaying under the weight of Jaemin and Renjun, so Jeno uses the knee-joint of the apatosaurus to haul himself up, his ribs screaming in protest. The wolves snap at his feet, but he climbs higher, straddling the long neck. “What now?”

A gunshot echoes off the high ceiling, but Jaemin just shakes his head. “My bullets have no effect.”

Donghyuck lets an arrow fly, but it clatters harmlessly to the ground. “What in Hades?”

“They’re the pack of Lycaon,” Renjun realizes, “the first werewolf! They can only be hurt by silver.”

“That’s so  _ stupid,”  _ Jaemin shouts, smacking his gun against the dinosaur’s eye socket in frustration. “Werewolves are lame!”

“We can’t stay up here forever,” warns Donghyuck. As if on cue, one wolf barrels head-first into the leg of Jeno’s dinosaur, the force of the impact making the supports creak. Another wolf follows suit and the knee buckles. Jeno plants his foot against its shoulder and pushes off just in time, launching himself toward the largest skeleton as the apatosaurus crashes to the ground. His fingers barely manage to find purchase on the vertebrae of the neck, but the pain in his ribs nearly makes him black out as he hoists himself up.

“I don’t want to die in a  _ museum,”  _ Jaemin shrieks. “I refuse to go out like this!”

The fossils beneath Jeno’s feet shift, and for a moment he thinks the wolves are going to knock this skeleton over too, but then—

The dinosaur’s neck shifts, it’s head tilting from side to side as though stretching non-existent muscles. The cables suspending the head and tail to the ceiling snap.

“ _ Di immortales!”  _ Jaemin tumbles to the ground as the tyrannosaurus rears its head and opens its massive mouth. Jeno gets the impression that if this thing still had its vocal cords, it would be roaring.

The nearest wolf pounces at Jaemin, crumpled on the floor with his ankle bent at an odd angle, but a streak of silver sails through the air and impales itself in the wolf’s neck. Jaemin screams in pain as the wolf collapses onto his injured ankle, then dissolves into dust.

Another wolf falls, a silver arrow protruding from its eye socket, and Jeno turns to see a group of girls pushing their way into the room, all holding bows at the ready—well, almost all. One girl stands silhouetted in the doorway, her hand outstretched and her forehead creased with concentration. Even with her long dark hair pulled back from her face and the orange camp shirt replaced by silver and white camouflage, Jeno recognizes her as Hyejoo, daughter of Hades.

Hyejoo’s hands curl into fists and the tyrannosaurus opens its jaws impossibly wide to snap up a wolf with its stony teeth. The wolf writhes, whimpering in pain until a silver arrow turns it to dust. Jeno has a moment of relief before the bones beneath him start to shift.

He clings on for dear life as a huge foot lifts and then drops, the sound booming in the echoing space. “Why do you have to be so  _ tall,”  _ Jeno demands of the skull still high above him as he squeezes his eyes shut to avoid looking at the floor twenty feet below. Sure, the climbing wall at camp is taller, but it also doesn’t move around quite as much. He listens to the sounds of battle and prays that he won't be shot down by a stray arrow or somehow bucked from his perch.

"Jeno, you can get down now!" Renjun's voice calls, and Jeno opens his eyes. The gallery is nothing short of a disaster. The floor glitters with the broken glass of the display cases, the apatosaurus is half-collapsed, the bones of its leg scattered across the pedestal, and the two other skeletons have broken free of their supports, seemingly only held upright by Hyejoo's willpower.

"Jeno," Hyejoo growls, eyes narrowed to slits, "if you don't get down right now, you're coming down in a rain of fossils."

Jeno gulps, swinging his leg over the side and searching for a foothold, but a bolt of pain shoots through his side, and he half-tumbles to the ground.

"Ouch," he groans, hearing the heavy crash of the skeletons collapsing, but thankfully none of the fossils fall on him. He rolls onto his back and tries to make sense of his surroundings.

There are about a dozen girls, including Hyejoo, all dressed in gray camouflage and all carrying bows with quivers slung over their backs. They seem to be roughly teenaged, but there's a timeless sort of glow to their faces that makes it hard to tell.

"Male heroes," sniffs a girl with a sharp, hawk-like glare and a silver circlet braided into her short dark hair, "always making such a mess of things."

"Should we kill them, my lady?" asks a blonde with a face far too sweet for such a request.

"Wait—" protests Hyejoo, but a girl with auburn hair holds up a hand for silence.

"We shall not kill them," she decides, with an authority that Jeno wouldn't have expected, considering how young she looks. "That one," she waves a hand toward Donghyuck, kneeling at Jaemin's side and trying to remove the shoe from his swollen foot with little regard for his own bleeding shoulder, "is the child of my brother. The hissy fit he would throw if I killed one of his brood is not worth the trouble."

Jeno's mind tries to catch up through the haze of pain. Donghyuck's dad is Apollo, so that must mean—

"Lady Artemis," Renjun kneels before her with his head bowed. "We apologize for interrupting your hunt. Thank you for sparing us.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was so so much fun to write! let me know what you think in the comments!  
> also please support all the boys for nct2020!!!


	10. A Reluctant Sleepover and A Lot of Snakes

At Artemis’s command, Jeno and Jaemin are hoisted up by several hunters, as easily as if they’re made of styrofoam. Jeno’s ribs cry out in protest as his head spins. The auburn-haired girl looks a few years younger than him, but there’s something about her eyes that reminds him of Chiron—as if she’s seen millennia of joy and pain, victory and defeat. She studies the demigods as though trying to predict on which side of history they will fall.

“Only my arm is injured,” insists Donghyuck as a few hunters reach for him as well. “I can walk just fine. Where are we going, anyway?”

“We will set up camp outside of town,” Artemis decides, nodding at the girl in the silver circlet, who has one of Jaemin’s arms slung over her shoulder and looks supremely displeased about it. “Haseul, see that these demigods are looked after. Tend to their wounds. I will return to you shortly.”

The girl—Haseul—looks like she’d rather camp with rabid coyotes than Jeno and his friends, but she nods. “Yes, my lady.” With one last smile, Artemis disappears in a flash of silver light. Haseul turns to fix Renjun and Donghyuck with a cool glare. “Keep up.”

Through his haze of pain, as his side is jostled, Jeno has a hard time judging how long the hunters run. They never seem to slow down or run out of breath, despite bearing the weight of Jeno and Jaemin between them.

Donghyuck and Renjun, who are nearly as fast as the dryads at camp, barely manage to keep up as they leave the heart of town. By the time they stop at the banks of a creek, maybe a mile away, Renjun’s face is flushed and beading with sweat. Donghyuck, on the other hand, is paler than Jeno has ever seen him, his shoulder wound bleeding more from the exertion. As Jeno watches in concern, he sways on his feet. Only the fast reflexes of a nearby hunter keep him from collapsing. 

“You can walk just fine, huh?” she scoffs, holding him upright despite being a head shorter.

“He made it here, didn’t he?” Jaemin snaps. His face is still pinched with pain, but he manages a glare, which the hunters return in force.

“Set up camp,” Haseul orders, ignoring Jaemin. “Kahei, administer to the wounded.

The girl holding Donghyuck makes a face, but nods. The hunters lower Jaemin and Jeno to the ground and disperse to set up camp—which takes them less than thirty seconds. Jeno watches in awe as the camouflage tents stake themselves to the ground. He takes a breath to ask how they work, but the action sends a fresh wave of pain through his chest and side.

Slender fingers poke at his side, eliciting a hiss. “Cracked ribs,” says Kahei disinterestedly. “Hyunjin, Sooyoung, a little help here?” Together, the three hunters along with Renjun, usher the injured into a smaller—presumably medical—tent.

“Jeno, your ribs,” says Donghyuck as Sooyoung lowers him onto a grey bedroll. “Does it hurt when you—”

“Don’t worry about that,” snaps Kahei. “I’m the best healer in the ranks. What, you think you can do better than me just because you’re a boy?”

Donghyuck blinks at her, baffled. “I never said that I just—”

“Leave it, Hyuck,” advises Jaemin. “The hunters of Artemis have very strong opinions about men.”

“And romance,” adds Hyunjin with distaste, setting Jaemin on a bedroll and backing away as though afraid of catching a disease.

Jaemin’s kaleidoscope eyes flash with anger and he opens his mouth, probably to give a rousing speech about love, but Renjun places a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe don’t anger the girls with the bows when you still have a broken ankle.”

“This one at least has some sense,” snorts Sooyoung as she and Hyunjin leave.

Kahei surveys the four of them with her hands fisted on her hips. “I guess the one who’s bleeding gets the highest priority.”

Jeno closes his eyes and tries to keep his breaths shallow. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, he can’t bear the thought of even trying to move. 

“The claws didn’t pierce deep,” he hears Kahei say as she works. “Drink this. Keep the bandages on for tonight, at least, but after that, you should be fine. Be grateful it didn’t bite you, that would have been much worse.”

Donghyuck mumbles a  _ thank you _ as Kahei moves on to Jaemin. Out of curiosity, Jeno turns his head to watch. From Kahei’s expression, she’d rather break Jaemin’s other ankle than heal him, but she shoves a square of ambrosia in his mouth and tells him not to scream as she splints the bone. He grips Renjun’s hand so tight that the other boy grimaces. Neither of them makes a sound as Kahei works. The tent itself seems to breathe a sigh of relief when she finishes.

“Let’s see,” Kahei mutters as she probes Jeno’s side with her fingertips. “Two cracked ribs. Nothing too major.”

“Not major?” asks Donghyuck, anger coloring his voice.

Kahei raises an eyebrow in his direction. “If you’re so knowledgeable about healing, you’ll know it’s nothing a little ambrosia can’t fix,” she says, holding a square of the godly food to Jeno’s lips.

As the salty, spicy flavor of kimchi spreads over his tongue, warmth floods Jeno’s limbs, leaving a comfortable tingle where the pain in his ribs had been. “You’d better not move just yet,” Kahei advises. “I’ll leave you with a few more ambrosia squares and a canteen of nectar, but don’t take more than you need if you don’t want to burn to ashes. The same goes for you,” she nods in Jaemin’s direction. “Don’t put any weight on that foot for a few hours at least. You should be fine,” she adds to Donghyuck. “Flesh is easier than bone.”

“Thank you for your help,” says Renjun.

With a curt nod, Kahei leaves the tent.

“Ew,” says Donghyuck, looking down at himself. With his shredded shirt removed, only the bandages serve to cover his blood-streaked torso.

Jeno huffs out a laugh. “Maybe one of the hunters can lend you some fancy camouflage.”

“Not likely,” Jaemin points out. “They might kill you for asking.” 

Donghyuck shrugs, rolling his bandaged shoulder gently. “I want to go check out the camp, maybe talk to Hyejoo. Since when did she join the hunters, anyway?”

“Must have been in the past few days,” says Renjun. “After we left.”

“It was the day you left, actually.” 

The four boys turn to the tent flap, which Hyejoo pushes aside. Once again, Jeno is struck by how different she looks. With her long hair pulled out of her face, he can see her dark eyes, her skin seems to glow, and a faint smile—an expression he’d never seen on her before—tugs at her lips as she tosses a folded t-shirt to each of them. “Here. Figured you might want this.”

Using his good arm, Donghyuck tugs the shirt over his head and grins down at the depiction of a cartoon T. rex attempting to do push-ups. “Did you get this from the museum gift shop?”

“Yep,” Hyejoo confirms, taking a seat next to Jaemin on the bedroll. “How’s your ankle?”

“Doesn’t hurt right now. It should be better soon.”

Hyejoo nods. “Kahei’s great with that stuff.”

“We didn’t get a chance to thank you,” says Donghyuck. “For saving us, at the museum.”

“No need to thank me,” Hyejoo shrugs. “We were tracking the pack, you guys just happened to be there.”

“How did you do that?” asks Renjun. “With the dinosaurs, I mean.”

“I’ve always been able to control bone.”

“Fossils aren’t bones,” Renjun contradicts. “They’re technically rock. And besides, those skeletons were probably plaster or resin casts, not even real fossils.”

“Dude,” Donghyuck interjects, “are you trying to science away Hyejoo’s creepy bone powers?”

“I honestly don’t know how I did it,” Hyejoo frowns, “but it worked, didn’t it?”

“Hyejoo,” Jaemin blurts, “why did you join the hunters?”

“ _ Jaemin,”  _ Renjun hisses, elbowing him in the side, “don’t be rude.”

“It’s okay,” says Hyejoo, that faint smile gracing her features again. “I understand romantic love is important to you. You’d never be able to give that up, would you?”

Jeno could swear Jaemin’s eyes flick toward Renjun before he shakes his head.

“Not even for the offer of immortality?” Hyejoo presses.

“No,” Jaemin says firmly. “What would be the point of eternity with no one to share it with?”

“But I  _ do  _ have someone to share it with,” says Hyejoo earnestly. “You crave romantic love, but all I’ve ever wanted is companionship. Somewhere to belong.”

“Camp Half-Blood—” Jaemin starts, but Hyejoo shakes her head.

“I’ve never fit in there and you know it. I’m happy with the hunters, and I don’t regret my choice.”

Slowly, Jaemin nods his head. “I understand. I’m glad you’re happy, Hyejoo.”

Gingerly, Jeno tries to push himself into a sitting position, reaching for his own dinosaur-themed t-shirt. “Stop that,” Donghyuck protests, giving him a gentle but firm push on the shoulder to force him to lie back down. As Hyejoo stands to leave, the tent flap opens and a young girl with auburn hair enters.

“Lady Artemis,” Hyejoo greets respectfully. “I’m glad you’ve returned.”

A silvery smile brightens the goddess’s face as she looks at her handmaiden. “Thank you, Hyejoo. I must speak to these demigods alone.”

Jeno suppresses a gulp as the goddess turns to face them. Despite her small stature and young appearance, he knows this teenaged girl has the power to turn them all into rabbits if the desire struck her.

“How are your injuries?” she asks.

“Well tended to, my lady,” answers Renjun. The others remain silent, content to let him do the talking. “Your handmaidens were very gracious.”

Something that looks suspiciously like a smirk appears on Artemis’s lips. “Oh, I have no doubt of that. Our hospitality will extend for the night. I am sure your injuries need time to heal and there may be mortal police looking for suspects in the destruction of several museum exhibits.” Her eyes glitter with amusement. “You may sleep in this tent, but do not attempt to mingle with my hunters, for your own protection as much as anything. As you may have noticed, they do not take kindly to boys. At sunrise, you must return to your quest and we to our hunt.”

“Thank you, Lady Artemis,” Renjun inclines his head in a bow.

The four quest members are silent for a few minutes after Artemis leaves them, until Jeno finally says, “Wow Donghyuck, your aunt is pretty cool.”

“I wish you’d stop talking about the Olympian side of the family like that,” Donghyuck complains. “It’s weird!”

Jeno grins, the lingering warmth of ambrosia in his blood making him feel fuzzy and sleepy. “Whatever you say, Sunshine.”

“Oh my gods,” Jaemin snorts. “Go to sleep, Jeno, before you say something really dumb.”

As he slips toward unconsciousness, Jeno can’t remember what he’d said that was dumb. All he can think of is Hyejoo’s choice: immortality in exchange for swearing off all romantic relationships. He understands her reasons, supports them even, and he’s happy that she’s found a home with the hunters. Luckily, Jeno’s found a place to belong at Camp Half-Blood, but that’s not the only kind of companionship he hopes to find in his life.

He’s never thought of himself as a romantic, but he agrees with Jaemin.  _ What would be the point of eternity with no one to share it with? _

  
  


The hunters kick them out of the medical tent, rather unceremoniously, just as the sun begins to rise. Other than a lingering stiffness in his side, Jeno’s ribs seem fine. “How’s your foot?” he asks Jaemin.

“The swelling’s pretty much gone,” says Jaemin, gently rotating his ankle. “So at least I can put my shoe back on.” He winces as he flexes his foot. “Hurts a little, but not much. I should be fine to walk back.”

Jeno turns to Donghyuck. “And you?”

“Just some epic scars,” he answers, tugging back the sleeve of his shirt to reveal four pale slashes against the golden skin of his shoulder.

“Go on your way then, heroes,” says Artemis, appearing beside them as the hunters finish packing up. “May the fates be kind to you.”

“Well that was a friendly sleepover,” Jaemin grumbles as they start the trek back to town. 

“Could have been a lot worse,” Renjun points out. “Artemis usually doesn’t let anyone witness her hunt. She could easily have turned us into jackalopes.”

“I think I’d make a cute jackalope,” Donghyuck muses. “Do you guys think I’d be a cute jackalope?”

“Let’s hope we never have to find out,” Jeno laughs.

They do their best to look inconspicuous as they make their way back to the museum, not sure what the mortal police force might have concluded from the destruction. Luckily the SUV is still there, lonely in the empty parking lot because according to the sign on the locked front doors of the building, the museum is “closed for repairs and renovations.”

“Hurry, let’s get out of here before anyone sees,” says Renjun, claiming the passenger seat. “We’re all wearing shirts stolen from the gift shop, and I don’t want to test Jaemin’s charmspeak against the police.”

“We’d be fine,” Jaemin insists, but he climbs into the backseat along with Donghyuck.

They pick up some food on the way out of town, which serves to raise their spirits. Jaemin and Donghyuck amuse themselves in the backseat by playing I Spy until they run out of colors.

Although Jeno’s never been to the Grand Canyon and isn’t exactly sure how to get there, he figures they’ll be fine to stay on the highway as long as it continues heading southwest. The compass on his wrist seems obsolete now, but the Grand Canyon is huge; he’s sure they’ll need it once they arrive.

  
  
  


By the time the sun starts sinking toward the horizon, Jeno’s brain has beaten itself to jelly, running through all the possibilities of what could go wrong. The prophecy loops through his mind like a broken record, occasionally interspersed with Aphrodite’s cryptic warnings, until he wants to crash the car into a ditch just for something else to think about.

As if in answer to that frustrated desire, a boom reverberates through the SUV, which swerves dangerously toward the side of the road. Jeno slams on the brakes, the acrid smell of burning rubber filling the car as the tires skid against the asphalt.

“What’s happening,” yelps Donghyuck, jolted awake and staring around blearily.

“One of the tires blew,” Jeno answers as the car screeches to halt. He shoves open his door and climbs out, quickly locating the gaping hole in the front left tire. “We must have hit something sharp or—”

“Or it’s because of those,” suggest Renjun, coming to stand beside Jeno and pointing down the road the way they’d come as Jaemin and Donghyuck join them.

“Snakes?”

Although there must be more than a dozen of them, approaching fast, the snakes don’t look particularly threatening at first. They’re not too big, about the length of Jeno’s arm, and a bright candy-apple green, but Renjun turns pale.

“Those are basilisks,” he tells the others. As if on cue, the snake nearest the car—possibly the one that popped their tire—opens its mouth in a hiss, a collar of white flaring around its neck in spikes. “Move!” Renjun yelps, shoving Jeno out of the way just in time to avoid a blast of flame from the serpent’s mouth.

“Up here,” urges Jaemin, clambering onto the hood of the car and fumbling for his pistols.

The black exterior of the car is scorching beneath Jeno’s palms as he follows suit. The other basilisks follow the first’s example in rearing up, their white collars blooming like daisies in the desert--if daisies could breathe fire. Donghyuck has to bat one snake away with his bow to avoid being bitten as he swings himself onto the top of the car.

Jaemin stands, planting his feet firmly on the hood of the car, gripping a pistol in each hand. Twin gunshots ring out across the wide blue sky and the two snakes attempting to slither up the bumper fall limp to the ground. “Donghyuck, a little help?”

Donghyuck lets out a strangled whimper, and Jeno’s heart lurches. Has he been bitten after all? But he sees no sign of a bite; Donghyuck clutches his bow in both hands, staring in horror at the black stain on the gold where it had come in contact with the basilisks scales. The blackness spreads, creeping like blood soaking through fabric until the last of the gold disappears and the bow disintegrates in Donghyuck’s hand. “No!” Donghyuck screams, his face twisting in fury, and he draws his bronze dagger. Jeno grabs him by the shoulders just in time to keep Donghyuck from throwing himself back to the ground to avenge his weapon.

“You can’t fight them close range,” Jeno says, dragging Donghyuck away from the edge. “Let Jaemin handle this one.”

Eyebrows drawn as he squints against the harsh sunlight, Jaemin targets snake after snake but more seem to appear from the grasses at the side of the road every moment. “Where do they keep coming from?” he snaps, dropping a clip from one of his guns and replacing it with a fresh round from the inside pocket of his jacket.

Jeno feels utterly useless, holding a trembling Donghyuck as Renjun’s stormy gray eyes look on, as Jaemin struggles to hold back the wave of serpents.

Jaemin lets out a scream of frustration. “Leave us alone!” he shouts at the basilisks. The power of his voice drops like a bomb, leaving Jeno’s ears ringing. To his shock, the basilisks freeze in place, their white crests wilting like folding umbrellas, and then one by one, they turn away from the car and slither back into the brush at the side of the road, leaving only burning grass behind

The four demigods huddle atop the SUV, shell-shocked, the memory of Jaemin’s voice reverberating around them.

Renjun finally breaks the silence. “You know, Jaem,” he says, the slightest tremor in his voice, “if this hero thing doesn’t work out, you’ve got a promising career in the snake charming business.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you feel the end getting closer?  
> lmk your thoughts in the comments!  
> don't forget to stream make a wish! NCT2020 WORLD DOMINATION!!


	11. Rock-Climbing Practice Pays Off

It takes Jeno under two minutes to remove the flat tire and replace it with the spare from the trunk, but the silence makes it feel like an eternity. Donghyuck sits dejectedly at the side of the road, his bloodshot eyes staring at nothing. Tentatively, Renjun lowers himself to the pavement next to him and puts an arm around his shoulder but Donghyuck shows no reaction. Jaemin remains on his feet, glaring at the waving grass as if daring the basilisks to reappear.

“Okay,” says Jeno, trying to brush the dirt off his hands, “we should be good, at least for now. This spare isn’t made to hold up for long though, so we’ll have to stop for a replacement as soon as we can.”

The others nod wordlessly and shuffle back into the vehicle.

They aren’t in the most populated part of Arizona, but eventually, they find their way to a tiny patch of civilization with a tire shop. Most of their remaining cash goes toward the new tire. Jeno could have attached it himself, but installation is complimentary with purchase. Besides, he welcomes a break from the silent car and endless roads. 

“Why do we always end up in tiny towns in the middle of nowhere?” complains Jaemin. “This hardly qualifies as civilization. They don’t even have a McDonald’s!”

It’s somewhat true, Jeno has to admit. There’s not much to see in Teec Nos Pos, Arizona, aside from the tire shop and the Teec Nos Trading Post, which seems to be a general store offering supplies and souvenirs.

“It’s kind of cool, though,” Renjun argues as they push open the intricately painted door of the trading post. “There’s a lot of history in this area.”

“Nerd,” Donghyuck mumbles—his first word since the basilisk attack. Renjun takes it in stride, calmly smacking him upside the head. Donghyuck’s backpack is slung over one shoulder and it takes Jeno a moment to notice that the other strap is gone. Half the backpack has disappeared along with the bow. It looks a bit like a fanny pack now but Jeno decides not to mention that; Donghyuck may have lost his bow, but he still has a knife.

They scrounge the shelves for the cheapest snacks as Renjun reads from a pamphlet he found next to the door, listing nearby famous historical sites. “Does that happen to say how far we are from the Grand Canyon?”

Renjun flips the pamphlet over to a map of Arizona and the surrounding states. “Should only take a few more hours.”

Jaemin glances outside to the sun sinking toward the horizon. “How long will the tire take?”

Hopefully forever, Jeno thinks, but he just shrugs, chewing on his lip.

“We should just rest tonight,” suggests Renjun. “We’ll all need our strength tomorrow, so we shouldn’t drive through the night.”

“Good plan,” Jeno agrees as the four of them take their food to the cash register. 

By the time Jeno steers the SUV, complete with a new tire, to a nearby trucker rest-stop, the western horizon is blazing red over the desert.

“Pass me one of those pillows we got from the harpies' store,” Renjun requests as he leans his seat back. 

“I’ll take first watch,” says Donghyuck, making Jeno jump. Although his voice is soft, hearing him speak after hours of nothing but one-word replies sends an electric current through Jeno’s veins as if Zeus tapped him with a lightning bolt.

“Are you sure?” Jaemin says hesitantly, immediately shrinking back when Donghyuck fixes him with a glare. “I mean—nevermind.” He leans his seat back too and turns to face the door.

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow at Jeno as though daring him to protest, which he doesn’t. He knows Donghyuck is more than capable of keeping watch with or without his bow. “Wake me up for the next shift,” is all he says.

  
  
  


A lush grove of olive trees fills the heavy night air with the rustling of leaves, as though the boughs are whispering the latest gossip to each other. The full moon beams like a silver spotlight into a clearing, where two figures are entangled. 

Jeno immediately recognizes the woman as the goddess Aphrodite, glowing with beauty in a pure white Greek kiton belted with gold. The man is unfamiliar, handsome in a cruel way. When he opens his eyes, they blaze with flame-like nuclear explosions. Uncomfortable to be watching an obviously secret rendezvous, Jeno scans the rest of the clearing and his eyes catch on an odd glimmer in a knot of the tree opposite. As he moves to get a closer look, a flash of gold explodes outward, expanding into a glimmering mass of cords that closes over the couple like a net over two cosmically powerful butterflies. As the cords cross each other, they light up and stiffen in midair, interlocking until the net is a spherical cage.

“Hephaestus!” roars the fiery-eyed man, pounding his massive fist against the wall of energy to no effect. “Show yourself, you sneaky little—”

“Sneaky?” a gruff voice answers and Jeno’s father materializes on the other side of the cage, the golden light casting his misshapen face into sharp relief. “I’m not the one hiding in the woods in the middle of the night with someone else’s wife, Ares.”

  
  
  


Jeno wakes with a start, his eyes still searching for the golden cage—it is one of Hephaestus’ inventions after all.

The moon has risen high, the crowning pearl of the jewelry box of stars scattered across the sky. A figure sits perched on the hood of the car with his back to the windshield, as still as one of Medusa’s victims. Blinking the remnants of the vivid dream from his eyelashes, Jeno pushes open his door.

Donghyuck doesn’t react when Jeno climbs up on the hood next to him. He just continues to turn the golden arrow over in his fingers, examining it. For the first time, Jeno notices the odd arrowhead—rather than a flat triangle, it’s almost conical. If it was pointed straight at him, he’d see a six-pointed star tapering into the sharp tip.

“I guess this is useless now,” says Donghyuck. “So much for help from the gods.”

“We might still be able to use it,” Jeno tries half-heartedly, but he fears Donghyuck is right.

“There’s no point in an arrow without a bow, Jeno,” Donghyuck murmurs. “And there’s no point in an archer without a bow either.”

“Hey, that’s not true—”

“It is, though,” huffs Donghyuck, setting his jaw against the threat of tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. “The prophecy said bow, didn’t it? That’s the only reason I’m on this quest. My only skill, my only gift from my dad, and now it’s gone.” His voice breaks on the last word and he ducks his head, shoulders shaking as he clutches the arrow with white knuckles.

Jeno remains silent for a few minutes, allowing Donghyuck to regain some of his composure. When his trembling gives way to even—if shaky—breaths, Jeno scoots close enough that their thighs press together and throws an arm over Donghyuck’s shoulder. “I don’t think that’s your only useful skill,” he says slowly, “but I wouldn’t care if it was. I want you on this quest with or without your bow, or your knife. I’d want you here anyway.”

“Why?” Donghyuck’s eyes are a bit bloodshot but wide and sparkling in the moonlight.

Jeno shrugs, resisting the urge to look away. He holds Donghyuck’s gaze as he says, “Because it’s you.”

Donghyuck snorts derisively, obviously holding back a flustered smile. “That’s a stupid reason.”

“Maybe,” Jeno concedes, knocking his shoulder against Donghyuck’s. “I’ll take over watch, you should get some sleep.”

“Yeah, okay,” Donghyuck agrees, his exhaustion seeming to catch up with him all at once. He arches his back, mouth opening in a yawn, and Jeno has to force down the urge to stick a finger in his mouth the way he used to do when Bongshik yawned. 

The sudden thought of his cat sends a chill down his spine, the sobering remembrance of all tomorrow might bring dousing him in apprehension.

“Hey,” Donghyuck reaches over and ruffles Jeno’s hair, “try not to worry too much. Whatever happens, happens, and stressing about it in the meantime won’t stop fate.”

“Comforting,” Jeno grumbles, but he leans into Donghyuck’s touch, a glow of warmth sparking amid the cold fear. Donghyuck giggles, patting Jeno on the cheek before hopping off the hood.

“Night, Hammer Head.”

“Sleep tight, sunshine.”

  
  
  


The Grand Canyon stretches out like a postcard—red rock as far as the eye can see. The beauty is lost on Jeno, however, as he stares down the slope of sheer cliffs and narrow hiking trails.

“Well,” says Jaemin, “it’s a good thing we spent so much time on the climbing wall.”

The oppressive Arizona heat presses down on them like scorching sand as the sun hangs overhead, the desert air licking the sweat from their flushed faces. Only Donghyuck looks at ease in the scorching temperature. Jeno longs for the air-conditioned interior of the SUV, which they’d been forced to abandon in the parking lot of a visitors center before continuing on foot.

His bronze compass is almost too reflective to look at as Jeno holds his wrist out over the void. Sure enough, as he turns it this way and that, the needle points down into the chasm. 

“Well,” Renjun sighs, hoisting his backpack into a more secure position on his shoulders, “we’d better get climbing.”

The next few hours are a haze of heat and pain. Although he promises himself not to look down, he fails more often than he succeeds. Every time his eyes stray to the expanse of cliffs and the riverbed far below, his head spins with the sudden, horrifying vision of falling to his death like Icarus from the old stories.

Jaemin is the only thing that keeps him from giving up halfway and letting gravity have its way with him. “This isn’t so bad, right?” he says from time to time, his voice like a cool breeze. “I think the wall at camp is harder. There’s not even any lava here!”

After what seems like an eternity of edging along tapering ridges and clinging to the rough sandstone, they come to a ledge big enough for them to stop and sit down. 

“Here,” Donghyuck says, handing out water bottles and granola bars from his supply pack. How he managed the descent with all that extra weight, Jeno has no idea. Gods, sometimes he can’t believe Donghyuck is real. He accepts the food and water with the best smile he can muster and sits down as far from the ledge as possible.

When he looks up, Jeno’s stomach seems to plummet the rest of the way to the bottom of the canyon. The top still seems so close, like he could reach up and touch the blue sky. In contrast, the bottom is as far away as ever when he peers over the edge.

“Hey, how are your hands?” Jeno tears his eyes away from the river—glittering and winding like a snake so far below—to see Donghyuck crouching next to him with a canteen of nectar.

“Huh? Oh,” Jeno looks down at his hands, noticing the scraped raw skin of his palms and the traces of blood on his fingertips. He hisses, the sight bringing the stinging pain to his attention for the first time. “I didn’t even notice.”

“You’re getting blood on your granola bar,” Donghyuck scolds, taking hold of Jeno’s wrist and gently trickling nectar over his hand. “Better?”

“Better,” he confirms, tingling warmth replacing the sting as Donghyuck reaches for his other hand. “What would we do without you?”

“Die, probably.” Donghyuck gives him a flick on the forehead before carefully making his way to Jaemin, whose left palm is covered in blood.

Jeno wants to lie down and never get up again. Years from now, hikers will find his bones, picked clean by birds and bugs, and bleached by the sun. His skull will grin at them, warning them to turn back while they still can.

The morbid fantasy is broken when Renjun hauls the mass of aching muscles that used to be a son of Hephaestus to his feet. “Come on, Jeno, the longer we stay down the harder it’ll be to get back up.”

And with that, they resume their descent.

  
  
  


It’s somewhat claustrophobic, Jeno thinks, like being trapped at the bottom of the world’s biggest well. The fluffy clouds are still visible straight up, but sandstone hems them in on all sides. They pick their way along the bank of the river, following the needle of Jeno’s compass. Thankfully, the shade of the canyon and the descent of evening lowers the temperature as they push their tired bodies to keep walking.

“Hold on,” Jeno says, squinting at his compass and adjusting their course away from the river and toward the wall of the canyon, along the rough surface, and then—

“Oh gods, this is the worst day of my life,” groans Donghyuck.

A fissure in the stone yawns open like a huge mouth, eager to swallow them whole. The bronze needle points directly into the darkness.

“Okay,” Jeno takes a deep breath and looks up for one last glimpse of the darkening sky, feeling the comforting weight of his pocketknife in his palm. “Okay, let’s go.”

He considers getting out the flashlight attachment but decides on his sword instead. The celestial bronze blade gives off enough light to see the compass needle and keep him from tripping over the uneven cavern floor. Besides, he really doesn’t want to be caught off guard without a weapon. The others follow suit, drawing their blades, Jaemin forgoing his guns in favor of his knife.

Their footsteps echo eerily against the stone, reverberating as if a far bigger group is marching forward. The compass leads them through a few branching tunnels, the sprawling open space of the canyon left far behind.

“Hello?”

Jeno nearly drops his sword. “Hades, Renjun, don’t do that!”

But Renjun’s face is paper white. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Help!” Renjun’s voice pleads from farther down the tunnel. “Jaemin! Jeno! Someone, help!” Jeno squints down the tunnel but the faint light of his blade reveals nothing.

“What the—” he turns back to Renjun, but he’s not there. Jaemin and Donghyuck stare back, horrified. “Where did he go?”

“You guys!” From a side tunnel this time. “Help me!”

Jaemin takes a step toward the voice but Donghyuck grabs his arm. “It’s a trick! Cyclopi can mimic voices perfectly.”

“Donghyuck?” He freezes, head snapping around to stare into the darkness, toward Mark’s voice. “Is that you? Thank the gods, you’ve got to help me!”

“A trick,” Donghyuck repeats, gripping his knife tighter. “It’s just a—where’s Jaemin?”

He’s nowhere.

Grabbing onto Jeno’s hand with a vice-like grip, Donghyuck’s eyes harden. “Well. Looks like it’s time for a game of hide and seek.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh would you look at that! a cliff hanger! feel free to yell at me in the comments
> 
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	12. Jaemin Wins A Bet

It’s worse than any nightmare he’s ever had: wandering through the winding tunnels with the voices of his friends pleading for help. Gripping his sword in one hand, Donghyuck’s hand in the other, he ignores the lure of the pleas and follows the compass needle.

Eventually the voices quiet, and that’s almost worse. There’s nothing, nothing in the world except endless caverns, the dim glow of his sword blade, and the feel of Donghyuck’s clammy palm pressed against his own.

“Wait,” Donghyuck hisses, pulling Jeno to a halt, “do you hear that.”

Jeno tilts his head and listens. Without the sound of their footsteps, he can hear something else from down the corridor, from the same direction the compass needle points. Muffled voices—one familiar, one gruff and rumbling—and the crackling, spitting sound of a fire. As slowly as they dare, Jeno and Donghyuck creep closer.

The tunnel opens into a huge cavern, the red sandstone made redder by warm firelight and the unnatural golden gleam of the spherical enclosure, shoved into the corner to make room for the massive fire pit in the center. With a chill, Jeno recognizes the cave from his dream, but he can’t focus on the cat trapped in the cage—not when Jaemin and Renjun are tied up and suspended by their ankles above a roaring bonfire tended by a huge figure, at least twelve feet tall.

“—really nice cave you’ve got here,” Jaemin is saying, his face flushed with heat as all the blood in his body drains into his head. His arms are free at least, unlike Renjun who’s trussed like a mummy, but his holsters are empty. “Why don’t you cut us down and give us a tour before you eat us?” He tries for a smile, but Jeno can see the strain on his face as clearly as he hears it in his voice.

“This one’s pretty,” the cyclops chuckles, leaning in and poking at Jaemin’s cheek. His eyes roll back in his head as he wretches from the cyclops’ rancid breath. “Will taste pretty, yes?”

“Don’t touch him!” Renjun wriggles in his bonds but only manages to swing like a pendulum.

“A feisty one,” the cyclops muses as it sinks into a crouch to poke at the fire with its bare hands, showing its black teeth in a grin. “Will give a spicy flavor, ha!”

Across the cave, Renjun spots Jeno and Donghyuck in the entrance, and his gray eyes widen with an unspoken demand. Jeno can’t be sure whether he’s trying to say, _Get us out of here!_ or _You idiots, what are you doing? Run!_

He ducks away from the entrance, worried that the cyclops will notice Renjun’s shock and follow his gaze. “What do we do?” he whispers desperately.

“If only I had my bow,” Donghyuck fumes. “I could shoot them down in a heartbeat.”

“Yeah, and then they’d land directly in the fire,” Jeno points out.

“Right,” Donghyuck huffs, shaking his head to clear it. “Cyclopes are hard to kill but their weak spot is the eye. I’ll draw its attention, you go for the eye. Your sword does spear form, right?”

“You want to be the bait?” Jeno asks incredulously. “I can’t let you do that, it’s too dangerous—”

“Your weapon has the better reach,” Donghyuck insists. “Do you know how close I’d have to get to poke out the eye with my knife?”

“I—” Jeno tries to think of a better plan, but comes up empty. “Okay fine. Just… try not to die, okay?”

Despite the dire circumstances, Donghyuck manages a smile. “Right back at you. Good luck, Hammer Head.”

Jeno returns the smile, squeezing Donghyuck’s hand one last time before letting go and switching his sword to spear form. “You too, Sunshine.” 

Donghyuck looks at him for another moment, as if he wants to say more, but then he takes a deep breath and charges into the cavern.

“Hey, ugly!” Donghyuck takes the cyclops off-guard, managing a slash to its leg before darting to the side. The cyclops roars in pain and surprise, trying to leap to its feet but stumbling on its injured leg. Jeno uses the moment of distraction to slip into the room, keeping out of the monster’s limited line of sight.

“Another pesky demigod,” the cyclops rumbles when he catches sight of Donghyuck, who scurries around the edge of the pit to put the flames between himself and the monster (and Jeno). “Loyal, easy to trap. Catch one, catch them all, hah!” Pushing the dangling forms of Renjun and Jaemin to the side like a two-strand beaded curtain, it steps straight through the fire with no heed for the heat, scattering coals over the stone floor. It reaches for Donghyuck with one huge hand but gets a slash across the palm as Donghyuck dodges.

Donghyuck may be fast and skilled with the dagger, but Jeno knows he can’t keep it up forever. He grips the shaft of his spear, waiting for an opening.

“Pesky half-blood,” the cyclops growls, aiming a kick at Donghyuck, who rolls to the side just in time to avoid being punted like a football. But he doesn’t escape unscathed; the side of his arm lands on one of the red-hot coals and he screams in pain.

Still on the other side of the fire pit, Jeno can see the side of the cyclops’ face now, grinning at the sight of Donghyuck’s pain. It leans down, one massive hand closing around Donghyuck’s leg before he can scramble away. 

Jeno’s vision goes red as molten celestial bronze and his instincts take over his body. A scream rips itself from his throat as he runs straight toward the fire, kicking off from the ground at the last moment. One hand still gripping his spear, he reaches up with the other and grabs hold of Jaemin’s arm. Using his friend’s dangling body like a rope, he swings himself over the fire, the flames licking his heels. At the sound of Jeno’s war cry—as well as Jaemin’s pained yelp— the cyclops looks up, its eye widening in shock. At the moment he lets go of Jaemin’s arm, time seems to slow down—Jeno hanging midair with the massive pupil and iris glaring at him like the bullseye of a target. Then, gravity catches up with him and he slams the point of his spear directly into the cyclops’ eye with all his weight.

For a second, Jeno has no idea which way is up and which is down. He and the cyclops topple in a mess of blood and bronze and bellowing. He manages to keep his grip on his spear as they fall, driving the point deeper as they hit the ground.

A scream of pure agony pounds against Jeno’s eardrums, magnified by the acoustics of the caverns, but he feels no sympathy. His will is as hard as the stones of Mount Olympus as he wrenches the bloody spear free, dodging flailing limbs and frantically searching for Donghyuck, who appears at his side a moment later with his dagger at the ready.

The cyclops writhes on the ground, clutching at its punctured eye. It seems not to notice at all as it rolls directly on top of the fire, the coals sizzling and hissing as the massive body smothers them.

“Hurry,” says Donghyuck, rushing forward and climbing onto the cyclops’s back, somehow keeping his balance as the monster shifts beneath him. “Jaem, catch!” He tosses his dagger hilt-first to Jaemin, who snatches it out of the air and begins to hack at Renjun’s bonds as Donghyuck hops back to the ground.

A few seconds later, Renjun, newly freed, falls with a grunt onto the less-than-comfortable landing of a wailing cyclops, but Jeno figures that’s better than dropping into a fire. The next moment, Jaemin lands beside him with considerably more grace, but nearly keels over from the vertigo of being suddenly right side up. Renjun recovers first, supporting Jaemin’s weight as they unsteadily pick their way through the remaining coals.

“Are you okay?” asks Donghyuck, hands running over their limbs to check for injuries. 

“I think Jeno dislocated my shoulder,” Jaemin groans.

“Hold still,” says Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, we don’t have time to get ambrosia and nectar. That cyclops isn’t down for good.” He grabs Jaemin’s arm with one hand, braces the other against his shoulder, and with one quick movement pops the joint back into place.

“Ow,” says Jaemin weakly, handing the dagger back to Donghyuck. “Where in Hades are my guns?”

“ _Half-bloods,”_ the cyclops growls, rising to its knees amid the dying embers. If possible, it looks even more horrible now, covered in blood and ashes, its eye a gaping maw.

Renjun’s gray eyes are like steel as he taps his ring, his sword expanding in his hand. “Come on, guys. We’ve still got a monster to kill.” He scans their weapons, the cavern, the golden cage, and the monster. “Without its eye, it’ll be navigating by sound, so the echo in the cavern is to our advantage. Jaem, your best weapon is your voice.” Jaemin nods grimly, hands instinctively going to his empty holsters. “Donghyuck, your weapon has the shortest reach, so just try to do as much damage as you can without getting killed.” As Donghyck grips the hilt of his dagger, Jeno sees the skin of his arm, blistered and burned, but Donghyuck pays his injury no heed. “Jeno and I will take point, come at it from either side. Aim for the stomach and neck, that’s where its hide is weakest.”

The cyclops tilts its misshapen head, trying to place the direction of Renjun's soft voice. With a nod, the demigods scatter.

“Wait!” Jaemin commands as the cyclops barrels toward the place they had been a moment before. It pauses, confused. “Aren’t you tired? Getting your eye poked out sounds exhausting,” he croons like a lullaby.

Jeno darts forward, his sword once again in his hand. The spear has a longer reach, but he has always been most comfortable with a classic blade. He slashes at the monster’s abdomen. The cyclops swats at him, but the effects of Jaemin’s voice makes the movement sluggish, and Jeno dodges easily as Donghyuck drives his dagger into the cyclops’ toe, narrowly avoiding being stepped on as the monster stumbles.

“There’s one right in front of you,” Jaemin tells it, “grab him!” The cyclops pounces face-first into the cavern wall, leaving a smear of blood on the sandstone.

“ _Where are you?”_ it demands in frustration.

“Jaemin,” calls Renjun as he hacks at the monster’s leg, unable to reach the vital targets, “make it lean down so we can target the neck!” 

“What’s that on the ground?” asks Jaemin, his voice so urgent that Jeno glances at his own feet before snapping out of it. “Quick, pick it up!”

As the cyclops leans over, hands scrabbling at the floor, Donghyuck dodges straight between its legs, slashing upward at its neck with his knife. At the same time, Renjun attacks from the left while Jeno comes in from the right. Their three blades hit the leathery skin of the cyclops’s neck at the same time, the combined strength severing the head. The monster bursts into a cloud of dust with a final bellow of rage, leaving only the head with the single mutilated eye leaking blood onto the cavern floor.

“That’s the worst spoil of war ever,” says Jaemin in disgust, nudging it with his toe.

“Why am I always the one who gets covered in monster dust?” Donghyuck complains, shaking the powder from his hair.

Jeno doesn’t bother to respond. With the cyclops dead, he turns his attention to their next problem.

Bongshik stretches, her paws splayed out in front of her, her coppery eyes glinting in the light radiating from her golden cage. _About time you got here,_ she seems to say.

“There must be a release mechanism or something,” Jeno muses, walking around the enclosure, reluctant to touch it. He can almost hear the magical energy, a faint hum that’s easy to miss at first, but impossible to ignore once he notices it.

A sharp intake of breath behind him makes him turn back to his friends. Donghyuck’s eyes are wide, staring at the cage. “Of course,” he mumbles, reaching for his quiver and bringing out Aphrodite’s gift. Jeno once again notices the odd shape of the arrowhead, like a six-pointed starburst—it looks just like the bright spots on the cage wall, where the strands of light intersect.

“ _Oh,”_ Jeno breathes, “it’s a key.”

“A key?” Jaemin looks from the arrow to the cage, taking a moment to understand. “But why is it an arrow?”

“It must be meant to operate from a distance,” Renjun hypothesizes, his eyebrows drawn together in worry. “But Donghyuck’s bow—”

“I’ll just have to unlock it manually,” interrupts Donghyuck. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Donghyuck, no,” Jeno protests, “we don’t know what could happen. It’s too risky, I can’t let you do that.” He steps forward and reaches for the arrow, but Donghyuck holds it protectively against his chest.

“Aphrodite gave this arrow to _me,”_ he says. “I may not have my bow, but I have to do this. It’s my job, the reason I’m on this quest _”_

“But—” 

“Shut up, Jeno, you aren’t going to change my mind,” Donghyuck snaps, then softens the slightest bit. “I’m sorry. I just—” He cuts off with a frustrated huff, and before Jeno can move, Donghyuck’s hand gathers a fistful of his shirt and tugs him into a kiss.

Every thought flees Jeno’s mind. He can’t remember what they’d been arguing about, can’t remember why he’d been so anxious. His senses kick into overdrive as his eyes slip shut. All he knows is the feeling of Donghyuck’s lips on his, Donghyuck’s fingers calloused from the bowstring, cupping his cheek. He tastes sweat and soot and, somehow, the faintest hint of honey. Just as they do in battle, Jeno’s instincts guide him. He hears his sword clatter to the floor as he encircles Donghyuck with his arms, burying one hand in his mess of wavy hair.

Only when his lungs scream at him for breath does Jeno pull away, opening his eyes to one perfect moment of Donghyuck staring back at him, face flushed, irises glinting golden, the scar above his eye from the time Jeno crashed their chariot just barely visible.

“I had to do that, just once,” Donghyuck murmurs. “Just in case.”

“Holy Styx,” says Jaemin. “Jaehyun owes me five drachma—assuming we make it back to camp alive.”

“Get back,” says Donghyuck, gently entangling himself from Jeno’s embrace. “We don’t know what will happen.”

Renjun looks ready to argue, and Jeno wants to as well, but the determined look in Donghyuck’s eyes tells him it won’t do any good. He allows Jaemin to usher him back toward the side tunnel, well away from the cage.

“Good luck,” says Jaemin, and Jeno realizes he’s just as worried as he and Renjun are, but he sets his jaw and puts on a brave face. “Please don’t die.”

A faint smile flashes over Donghyuck’s face. 

“I’ll try.” 

Then, he turns his back on them and approaches the cage, arrow in hand. Bongshik watches with concern, her tail flicking nervously back and forth.

Jeno sees Donghyuck’s shoulders rise in one last deep breath before he raises his arm and plunges the key into the side of the cage. That final image of Donghyuck’s back burns itself into his retinas just before a blinding flash of light erases everything from view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh it's another cliffhanger whoops!  
> aaa so much happened in this chapter, let me know your thoughts in the comments!


	13. Fighting Gods for Fun and Profit

A small mass of fur collides with Jeno’s legs with enough force to make him stumble. He blinks the bright spots from his eyes to see Bongshik nuzzling impatiently at his legs. A smile starts to grow on his face, Jeno drops to his knees and gathers his pet in his arms. The familiar feeling of her fur against his fingers brings the sudden prick of tears and an unexpected longing for his old life. He’d been a normal kid with a mom and a cat, not a demigod with a giant superpowered blacksmith for a father and monsters to kill. Bongshik had given him that childhood, protected him for as long as she could.

“Oh gods,” Jaemin breathes, poking his head back into the cavern.

Jeno’s blood floods with ice when he looks up. The golden cage gleams tranquility, as though it hadn't been disturbed at all, but Bongshik’s small form has been replaced by an unconscious boy slumped on the bottom of the glowing sphere. At least, he hopes Donghyuck is just unconscious. 

Shooting to his feet so fast that Bongshik mewls in protest, Jeno hurries toward the cage, ignoring Renjun’s admonition to be careful. As he approaches, he can see Donghyuck’s chest rise and fall shallowly. “Thank the gods, he’s alive.”

Jaemin and Renjun follow warily, eyeing the cage like they expect it to explode any minute. “What happened?” Renjun asks.

“I don’t know,” says Jeno. “I don’t understand how the cage works. Maybe if I…” he reaches out tentatively for the shimmering wall of energy. With most machines, a touch is all Jeno needs to understand the inner workings. He says a silent prayer as he reaches for the golden light, but his fingers never make contact.

A bang like a gunshot reverberates through the cave, making the stone walls tremble, and the form of a man materializes in the center of the room, standing in the dying embers of the cyclops’s fire. He’s huge, over six feet tall and made of muscle, clad in a leather jacket with a massive assault rifle slung over his back. The fiery light that flickers behind his sunglasses casts a harsh orange glow over his cruelly handsome features. His lips curl in a sharp smile as he turns toward them but quickly flattens into an annoyed line.

“That half-wit cyclops,” he snarls, “captured the wrong demigod.”

“Who are you?” Jeno demands. Something in the back of his mind tells him to be careful, but Jeno wants to rip this guy’s head off with his bare hands. He tries to step forward, but Renjun grabs his arm.

“Ares,” Jaemin addresses the leather-clad man, “what are you doing here?”

The man turns to study Jaemin, slipping his sunglasses low enough that Jeno can see his eyes— or rather, the glowing flames where eyes should be, like mini nuclear explosions. “Stay out of this, kid, I’m not here to hurt  _ you.”  _ He points at Jeno, who has to fight the urge to raise his sword and charge. “I’m here for this one.”

“ _ At god’s request to god’s design,” _ Renjun says, eyes widening in realization. “This was all a ruse, wasn’t it? We walked straight into a trap.”

The god laughs, a cold sound like metal clashing against metal. “That’s right. Payback for all those times that bronze-brain humiliated me over the centuries.” Jeno remembers his dream, the fury on Ares’s face as he struggled to escape Hephaestus’s trap.

“Bongshik was the bait,” Jeno seethes. Ares’s aura must be affecting him; he’s never felt so murderous. 

“That’s right,” Ares leers. “Pulled a few favors with Hermes to get him to steal the trap from Hephaestus’s workshop. That bumbling oaf probably didn’t even realize it was gone. After that, it was just a matter of bribing the cyclops to guard the cat. The promise of a few demigods to eat was all it took.”

“But you told him to let me live,” Jeno guesses. “Trap me so you could finish me off yourself.”

“Bingo,” says Ares. “Figured snatching his son, with his own cage no less, would make Hephaestus think twice next time he crosses me.” He casts an annoyed look at Donghyuck, unconscious in the golden enclosure. “Apollo’s brat ruined that part of the plan, but no matter.” The god cracks his knuckles with the sound of a gun’s safety releasing. “I can always pulverize you the old fashioned way.” He slings his rifle off his back and it transforms into a huge broadsword, wickedly sharp and as wide as Jeno’s torso.

Jeno raises his sword; he knows it’s suicide to try to battle a god hand-to-hand, but he refuses to go down without a fight. Fury blurs the edges of his vision. They’d traveled all this way, killed monsters, almost died so many times, only to end up trapped just like his cat.

Bongshik hisses, placing herself between Jeno and the war god. Before his eyes, she begins to grow, soft calico fur replaced by gleaming bronze, claws lengthening, teeth bared in a snarl. In the blink of an eye, Jeno’s pet becomes a lioness the size of a horse. She pounces, claws outstretched, but Ares merely waves a hand, and Bongshik flies into the side of the stone wall so hard that the whole cavern shakes.

“Pathetic,” Ares laughs, “just like its creator, and,” he refocuses his flaming eyes on Jeno, “just like you.”

As if in slow motion, Jeno watches Ares raise the gleaming sword. He lifts his own blade to block, but he knows it’s no use. There’s no way he can defeat a god; the flash of bronze will be the last thing he ever sees.

_ “Stop.” _

Every muscle in Jeno’s body goes rigid, obeying the command. Ares sword freezes in midair. The cave itself seems to hold its breath as Jaemin steps forward.

Jeno’s never considered beauty a form of power before, but Jaemin wields it like a spear, leveling his sharp gaze at the god of war and lifting his chin in defiance. “I am Jaemin Na, son of Aphrodite, and if you want to harm the people I love you’ll have to go through me first.”

“You think I’m afraid of a puny little thing like you?” Ares scoffs, regaining control of his arms and turning his sword on Jaemin, the tip nudging the underside of his chin, millimeters from his throat. “I could crush you with my pinky finger.”

Jaemin doesn’t so much as flinch. “Oh yeah? Do you think my mom would just look the other way? If you kill me, I guarantee she won’t so much as speak to you for centuries.” His words ring with truth, the charmspeak washing over Ares like a tidal wave. “Is your petty revenge worth the wrath of Aphrodite?”

“You-you’re worth nothing, punk,” Ares growls, but the tip of his sword lowers just a bit.

“If you believe that, you’re a fool,” retorts Jaemin. “Go back to Olympus, Ares. Take your fight to Hephaestus like a real man. Pick on someone your own size, coward.”

“You  _ dare—” _

“Yes, I dare.” Jaemin’s multicolored eyes blaze; in fact, his whole body seems to emit a rosy light, glowing with an aura of beauty and confidence.

Ares stumbles back in shock. “The blessing of Aphrodite,” he says in disbelief.

“You know war strategy, don’t you Lord Ares?” asks Jaemin sweetly, the power in his voice nearly making Jeno’s knees give out. “You won’t get to Jeno without killing me and Renjun too. Then you’d have both Aphrodite and Athena to worry about. You know when it’s time to cut your losses and admit defeat.”

The god’s face flushes with rage, but he lowers his sword. “You live today,” he spits at Jeno, then jerks his head at the cage, “but good luck saving that one. Apollo’s son can die for all I care.” 

In a burst of flames, Ares disappears.

Immediately, Jaemin stumbles. Renjun catches him and lowers him gently to the ground. “That was incredible, Jaem,” he says as the glow around Jaemin flickers out, leaving him exhausted. “The bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”

The ghost of a smile tugs at Jaemin’s mouth. “Yeah?”

“You saved all our lives,” adds Jeno.

“Maybe not,” says Jaemin, turning worried eyes toward the cage. Donghyuck is barely breathing, the movement of his chest nearly imperceptible. 

“What did Ares mean?” wonders Renjun, his gray eyes nearly black in the golden light. “What’s the cage doing to him?”

“Only one way to find out,” says Jeno, and stretches out his hand.

At the moment Jeno’s skin touches the cage, it’s like his mind is an inflating balloon, pulled in a million directions at once, stretching and expanding and ready to burst. The wall of light feels solid and warm against his hand, sending a tingling pulse up his arm; Jeno can feel the mixture of machinery and magic that holds it together. Wires, gears, enchantments, all woven together like a complex tapestry, and his consciousness hurtles along each thread. 

The connection only lasts a split second before Jeno is blasted backward, hitting the stone wall hard enough to knock all the air out of him, but he hardly notices as his brain struggles to make sense of everything he’d sensed in that brief moment.

The design is ingenious. Rather than run on an independent power source, the cage draws magical energy from its captive, simultaneously strengthening the trap and weakening the prisoner. The stronger the captive, the stronger the cage would become, making it the perfect containment option for gods or magical creatures like automatons.

But Donghyuck is neither. As a demigod—one foot in the human world and one in the eternal—his body doesn’t produce enough magical energy to power the cage. 

“It’s sapping his life force,” Jeno gasps, forcing his aching body to stand. Already, the golden threads are dimming. “By the time the cage is weak enough for us to get him out, it’ll be too late.”

“Oh gods,” Jaemin whispers, horrified.

“There has to be a way,” says Renjun, and Jeno can almost hear the gears in his mind turning as he searches for a solution. 

“Right,” agrees Jeno, mentally cataloging the tools he has and the mechanisms of the cage. He could try to craft a new key… but if the key has to be used at a distance, they might just end up stuck in the cage as well. Besides, Donghyuck doesn’t have time for Jeno to figure out the design. They could try to break it, but Jeno couldn’t even touch the cage for more than a second. 

Amid the swirling clamor of half-formed plans and desperate ideas, Aphrodite’s words come crisp and clear to the forefront of his mind:  _ you can’t think your way out of every situation. _

“No!” he says aloud. “No, there has to be a way to save him.”

With a pained mewl, Bongshik, once again in housecat form, picks herself up from the stone floor and limps toward Jeno. He crouches down and she places her chin in his palm, staring at him with her bronze eyes, the only hint of her true form, as though trying to tell him something.

_ To give up what they call their own _

_ And bring the captive safely home. _

“No,” Jeno whispers.

_ You know what you have to do,  _ Bongshik seems to say.

‘The moment will come when you will have to make a difficult decision,’ Aphrodite had said, ‘and when that moment comes, you must listen to your heart.’

And Jeno’s heart is pummeling against his ribcage, screaming over and over:  _ Donghyuck. _

“Can you do it?” Jeno asks his cat, stroking her velvety ears. Bongshik dips her head, nuzzling into his palm one last time before beginning to grow, taking on her true form. Jeno rises with her, standing eye to eye as she presses the cold metal of her nose to his forehead in farewell. “Thank you for taking care of me for so long,” he manages, hot tears beginning to spill over his cheeks. “Please, save me one last time.”

He helps Renjun drag Jaemin away as Bongshik approaches the cage, her bronze coat gleaming in the weakening golden light. She looks back at Jeno one last time, with the same eyes he’s known all his life, before preparing to pounce.

The explosion shakes the cavern, pebbles falling from the sandstone ceiling and Jeno dives to the floor, covering his head, praying to whatever god might be listening that none of them will get crushed.

When the world stops trembling, Jeno tentatively lifts his head, shaking dust and pebbles from his hair. “You guys okay?”

“Fine,” coughs Jaemin, gingerly touching a scrape on his cheek. “Where’s Donghyuck?”

Jeno looks around the cavern; several large chunks of rock litter the floor, interspersed with scraps of celestial bronze. A pang rips through his heart at the sight of one of Bongshik’s huge paws near his feet, but he ignores his grief and scrambles to his feet, picking his way through the wreckage. 

Donghyuck’s skin is paler than Jeno has ever seen it, as though the cage sucked all the gold from his complexion, leaving him ashen.

“Please,” Jeno mumbles, fumbling for Donghyuck’s wrist, “please don’t be dead, Sunshine. Please don’t be dead.”

The faintest pulse flutters beneath Jeno’s fingertips. “Thank the gods,” he sighs. “Donghyuck, wake up, come on.”

Another trickle of dust spills from the ceiling with a worrying rumble. “We have to get out of here,” Renjun urges, “before we get buried alive.”

As gently as he can, Jeno scoops one arm around Donghyuck’s shoulders and the other under his knees, lifting him off the ground.

“He’s so light,” he frowns, “and he’s shivering.”

“We can’t worry about that now,” says Jaemin, “let’s go.”

If it wasn’t for Renjun’s memory, they might have wandered the tunnels for eternity without ever finding the exit. Somehow, Renjun had managed to memorize every turn. With Jeno’s flashlight in hand, he leads them confidently through crossroads and branching passages.

They stumble out into the moonlight, the sun long since set. Jeno looks up to the stars far, far above. Once again, he has the crushing, claustrophobic sense of being trapped at the bottom of the well as he stares hopelessly at the steep cliff face. “There’s no way we can carry him up that,” says Renjun, echoing Jeno’s thoughts.

“The sun chariot?” Jaemin suggests.

“It’s night,” Renjun points out. “Besides, the chariot only goes from east to west—Apollo couldn’t give us a ride back to camp, even in the daytime.”

Jeno drops to his knees, cradling Donghyuck’s shivering body against his chest. “Dad, Hephaestus,” he prays in desperation, “I’ve done everything you asked. I did the stupid quest, and I’ve never asked you for anything before. We have to get back to camp. Please, help us.”

A metallic screech echoes through the canyon, and Jeno looks up to see two dark shapes circling in the sky, descending toward them.

“Eagles?” asks Jaemin in confusion.

“Bigger than any eagle I’ve ever seen,” says Renjun, hand twitching toward his ring, ready to activate his sword if need be.

The moonlight glints off metallic wings and Jeno realizes the huge shapes must be automatons, bronze eagles with twenty-foot wingspans.

“Thanks, Dad,” he breathes before raising his voice to reassure Renjun. “Don’t worry. They’re our ride back to camp”

As if on cue, the eagles swoop down, snatching up a battered demigod in each massive claw. Jeno gasps as they rocket upward, leaving his stomach at the bottom of the Grand Canyon.

He wants to close his eyes against the wind and height, but Jeno forces himself to stay calm. Even as the eagles pick up speed, the dark landscape streaking below them, Jeno fumbles for his pack and pulls out his canteen of nectar. The iron grip of the claw doesn’t make it easy to maneuver, but Jeno manages to squirm around enough to cup Donghyuck’s face in his hands.

Most of the nectar spills, snatched away by the wind to fall to earth like rain, but Jeno manages to pour a few drops into Donghyuck’s mouth.

“Stay with me, Sunshine,” he murmurs, trying his best to cradle Donghyuck’s body with his own, protecting it from the buffeting wind. “We just have to make it back to camp. Hold on.”

_ Bring the captured safely home. _

Jeno intends to fulfill the prophecy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...sorry?


	14. As Normal As It Ever Gets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is! the last chapter!

“Jeno?”

Jeno snaps awake, groaning at the ache in his neck from falling asleep in his chair. He blinks blearily, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

Oh, right. The camp infirmary, a cozy room in the big house. The lamp on the bedside table casts a warm glow over the vine-patterned wallpaper, the worn quilt, and the boy tucked snugly underneath. Donghyuck’s eyes are still closed, his face relaxed and open in his sleep.

“Hey.” A large hand settles on his shoulder, and Jeno looks up into Yukhei’s worried face. “I brought you some dinner. How’s he doing?”

Jeno accepts the plate with a weary smile. “Thanks.” He turns his gaze back to Donghyuck. “No change. Chiron says he should be fine, though.”

The flight back to Camp Half-Blood was the most terrifying experience of Jeno’s life—worse than the fight with the cyclops, or the wolf attack in Colorado, or even staring into the murderous light of Ares’s eyes. Even the passing blur of the United States hundreds of feet below them paled in comparison to Jeno’s dread as he cradled Donghyuck’s limp body. They’d arrived at camp just as the sun rose over the East coast, the golden and pink light doing little to mask the ashen tint of Donghyuck’s clammy skin.

Mark spotted them first, already awake for his early morning archery practice. Jeno doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the look on Mark’s face as the eagles set down his unconscious brother on the grass. 

“What happened to him?” Mark had demanded.

“No time,” Jeno gasped, gathering Donghyuck in his arms and stumbling toward the big house with Renjun and Jaemin in tow. “We need a medic.”

A few minutes later, the second-best healer from the Apollo cabin was ushered into the infirmary by Chiron. Sungchan looked ready to pass out with nerves but his hands were steady as he checked Donghyuck’s limbs for injuries and poured nectar and various magical herbs into his mouth. Slowly, the color bled back into Donghyuck’s cheeks, his breathing growing steady. “He almost faded completely,” said Sungchan, “but I think he’ll recover.”

At some point, Renjun and Jaemin disappeared, led away by concerned cabinmates. Even Mark had to leave, unable to bear the sight of his brother lying so still and fragile, but Jeno stayed by Donghyuck’s bedside.

Glancing back up at his older brother, Jeno frowns. “Where’d you get that bruise?”

Yukhei grins ruefully, fingers gingerly pressing against the blooming purple and red on his cheek. “Got into a bit of a scuffle with Yuta and the rest of Ares cabin. Jaemin told us the whole story and, well,” he shrugs, “you might want to watch your back for the rest of the summer. You know how the Ares kids can be.”

Jeno huffs a tired laugh. After everything he’s been through, Yuta and his cabin mates don't worry him much.

“You gonna come back to the cabin?” asks Yukhei tentatively. “It’s getting late.”

Stretching his arms over his head and relishing in the way his back pops, Jeno casts a look at the clock over the mantle. He’s been in the infirmary for nearly eighteen hours; he really should go get some sleep, but…

“Nah,” he says, “I think I’ll stay.”

“Okay,” relents Yukhei, unsurprised by Jeno’s choice. He grabs a spare blanket from the foot of the bed and tucks it around Jeno’s shoulders with a tenderness that doesn’t match his huge stature and roughened hands. “Good night little brother.” He ruffles Jeno’s hair. “I’m glad you’re back safe.”

Once again alone, Jeno reaches out to take Donghyuck’s hand. His golden skin is warm and the pulse in his wrist is strong. “I told you it’d be alright, Sunshine,” he murmurs, eyelids already drooping.

  
  
  
  


Jeno wakes slowly to fingers carding gently through his hair. Sunlight glows red behind his eyelids as he slowly becomes aware that he’s slumped over, his face resting against something soft but his body stiff and uncomfortable. He grumbles sleepily and a melodic giggle replies, forcing Jeno’s eyes open.

“Donghyuck?” He’s sitting up, propped against his pillows with his hand still clasped in Jeno’s. Jeno hastily lets go, wiping his sweaty palm against his pants. “You-you’re awake.”

“I could say the same to you,” says Donghyuck with a yawn before frowning in confusion. “What happened? How long have I been out?”

“Over a day,” replies Jeno, a wave of relief hitting him with the force of a baseball bat. “You’ve been unconscious for over a day. Are you thirsty? You should have some water.”

He snatches the glass from the bedside table and raises it to Donghyuck’s lips despite his protests that _I can hold my own cup, Jeno, I feel fine._

At Donghyuck’s insistence, Jeno recounts the events of the previous night, starting from when Donghyuck released Bongshik. Emotions flicker over his face like fireworks: rage when Jeno explains Ares’s plan, pride at Jaemin’s bravery, interest in the design of the cage. Jeno’s voice gives out when he reaches the end—Bongshik’s destruction of the cage and herself.

“Oh, Jeno,” he murmurs, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. “I’m so sorry Jen, all that way to save her… It’s all my fault, if it wasn’t for me—”

“Don’t say that Hyuck,” Jeno interrupts. “It happened just like the prophecy said. The sacrifice—I had to bring you safely home.”

Tears glitter in Donghyuck’s eyes. “ _To give up what they call their own,”_ he remembers. 

“Aphrodite warned me too. She said I’d have to make a choice.” Jeno looks down at their intertwined fingers. “She said I’d face a problem I couldn’t think my way out of, and I’d have to listen to my heart.” He swallows hard, thinking of the hasty kiss Donghyuck had given him just before everything went wrong. “Donghyuck—”

The door flies open, hitting the wall with a bang that makes Jeno leap to his feet, reaching for his sword before he realizes it’s just Mark.

“You’re awake,” Mark gasps, like he’d just run halfway across camp, then launches himself at the bed, tackling Donghyuck into the pillows.

“Yeah—ouch, Mark, get off! How did you know I was awake?”

“Yeojin told me,” Mark replies, squeezing him in a hug.

Jeno edges toward the door; the Lee brothers need a few minutes alone, and he’s sure the Hephaestus cabin is eager for his return.

He’s nearly bowled over by Changbin the moment he pushes open the heavy door to Cabin 9. Ryujin isn’t far behind, knocking Changbin out of the way to wrap her arms around Jeno.

“Yukhei said you were fine, but honestly I didn’t believe him until now,” she says, squeezing him so tightly Jeno thinks his ribs might crack.

“All these years and you still don’t trust me,” grumbles Yukhei, but he’s grinning.

“Jaemin said you met Ares, is that true?” demands Changbin.

“Yeah, and Aphrodite.”

_“What?”_

“Let me breathe,” Jeno laughs, extricating himself from the tangle of limbs, “and I’ll tell you the whole story.” 

It must be a pretty good story because Ryujin doesn’t fiddle with a single piece of machinery while he talks. Changbin interrupts periodically with muttered curses in ancient Greek, his eyes wide with interest.

Retelling Bongshik’s death is easier the second time. Looking around at his cabin mates, Jeno knows they understand his grief in a way few others could. She may not have been a living creature in the traditional definition, but a god breathed life into her the same as any other animal. She was painstakingly crafted to protect him and she served that purpose to the very end. Few organic life forms would be half as loyal.

“I think she knew she didn’t need to protect you anymore,” says Yukhei, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You can take care of yourself now, and you’ve got us.”

“Yeah,” Ryujin chimes in. “I bet she’s proud of how strong you’ve become.”

“She’s at peace now,” Changbin adds, “knowing she hasn’t left you vulnerable.”

Jeno thinks they must be right.

That night at the campfire, the four quest members proudly toss the burial shrouds made in their absence, watching with pride as they go up in smoke. 

“It’s almost a shame we didn’t get to use them,” remarks Renjun as grey, pink, bronze, and gold turn to identical ashes in the magical flames. “They were so pretty.”

  
  
  
  


A semblance of normality returns over the next few days—or as normal as Camp Half-Blood ever is. Jeno sends an Iris message to his mother, who chews him out for several minutes for leaving her without updates, then weeps for Bongshik, promising to have a memorial service when Jeno returns home. 

As Donghyuck slowly regains his strength, he insists on being allowed to practice archery. Mark lends him his bow and refuses to leave his side at the archery range, forcing Donghyuck to sit down when he seems too tired.

“He’s smothering me,” Donghyuck complains one afternoon when Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun manage to smuggle him away to the canoe lake.

Jaemin pauses his rowing to splash a handful of water at Donghyuck with a wry smile. “Well, you did almost die.”

“Of course I did,” huffs Donghyuck, “I’m a demigod! Kind of goes with the territory.”

Renjun rolls his eyes. “Yes yes, you’re a true self-sacrificing hero. Cut the dramatics, we have the right to be worried.”

They spend the afternoon on the water, talking and laughing, slowly getting sunburned as the naiads giggle at them from the bottom of the lake. But there’s one subject they never touch.

The more days pass, the more impossible it feels to bring up the kiss. It’s easy for Jeno to put it out of his mind most of the time, when the roar of the forge or the clang of metal on metal in the sword arena drown out his pesky thoughts, but sometimes Donghyuck will catch his eye with the hint of a smile on his lips and Jeno remembers that one perfect moment in the face of death.

Though Jaemin will shoot Jeno an exasperated look when he catches him looking at Donghyuck for just a second too long, he doesn’t say anything, for which Jeno is grateful. He’ll figure it out himself eventually, he’s just not quite sure how. In the meantime, he busies himself with a new project, an idea that’s been floating around in his head since Nebraska.

“Hey, Hammer Head.”

Jeno jumps, hastily dropping the red-hot rod of celestial bronze into a bucket of water with a hiss of steam and turning to the doorway, trying in vain to tame his sweaty hair with his equally sweaty fingers. “Hey, Sunshine, what’s up?”

“Just needed to get out of the cabin for a while,” Donghyuck shrugs, leaning against the doorframe of the workshop. “Johnny came over for a visit so Mark kicked us out. So much for letting me heal in peace.” 

“Johnny? From Hermes Cabin? Why would you need to…” he trails off as Donghyuck raises a suggestive eyebrow. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck wrinkles his nose, “they’re gross. Anyway, what are you working on?”

“Just getting ready for the fireworks display,” Jeno says, gesturing to the nearby worktable cluttered with chemical powders and cardboard tubes, and stepping to the side to conceal his other project from view. “Ryujin’s seriously a genius with this stuff, I would have made the whole workshop blow up without her.”

“You do excel at blowing things up,” Donghyuck observes.

“It’s a useful skill.”

“Oh, definitely.” Donghyuck’s eyes glitter with mirth. “Don’t forget to put that on your college applications.”

Jeno laughs and for a moment, as their eyes meet, he wants to ignore his own grimy, sweaty state and cup Donghyuck’s face in his hands—

“Hey Jen, can you help me with—oh, sorry.” Ryujin freezes in the doorway, a huge cardboard box, no doubt full of more firework materials, balanced in her arms.

“I’d better let you get back to work,” says Donghyuck, giving Ryujin an awkward smile as he slips past her, out of the workshop.

“Shut up,” Jeno says as soon as he’s gone.

“I didn’t say anything,” protests Ryujin innocently while a devilish grin spreads over her face.

Before he can tell her to wipe that smug look off before he does it for her, Jaemin bursts into the workshop and fixes Jeno with an annoyed frown. 

“Why, pray tell,” he huffs, “is Donghyuck blushing like the setting sun on his way to the strawberry fields?”

Ryujin bursts out laughing and Jeno sighs. “I don’t know, Jaemin, why don’t you ask _him?”_

“Because he’s insufferable!” Jaemin throws his hands up in exasperation. “What is the deal with you two? You’ve already kissed, so why are you skirting around each other like a pair of flighty pegasi?”

“They’ve already _what?”_ Ryujin demands. “Jeno!”

“Come on, Jen,” Jaemin pleads, not using charmspeak but giving Jeno his best puppy-eyes. “If you two aren’t dating by the end of the summer, Jaehyun wins.”

“I’m not going to ask him out just so you can win your bet.”

“No,” Jaemin agrees, “you’re going to ask him out because you like him very much.” He gives Jeno an encouraging pat on the back and skips out the door.

Jeno scowls half-heartedly after him. Yes, of course, he likes Donghyuck. He’s liked him since the first day of camp, probably, but that doesn’t change the fact that Jeno has no idea what he’s doing in the romance department. Communicating with organic life forms isn’t his strong suit. 

He glances back down at his project, the metal now cooled by the water. 

Hmm. He might be able to figure something out.

  
  
  
  
  


In the week leading up to the 4th of July, the Hephaestus campers nearly get eaten by the security harpies for staying at the main workshop past curfew several times. Even after they arrive back at their cabin, breathing heavily and picking harpy feathers out of their hair, they simply retreat to their underground room and continue to work. Their stock of fireworks grows steadily, hundreds of unassuming cardboard tubes piled in corners, on tables, and under bunks. One stray spark and they’d all be blown straight to Hades in a blaze of color.

It’s worth it though, to see the sky over Long Island Sound alight with fire, each blast so perfectly timed by Ryujin that the lights form moving pictures.

“I’ve been here five years,” Donghyuck marvels, “and this is the best firework display yet.”

“Of course it is,” Jeno preens, “I’m here.”

Donghyuck doesn’t bother to respond, not taking his attention from the spectacle. Jeno, on the other hand, can’t focus on the sky when Donghyuck is right in front of him. The fireworks look a hundred times prettier reflected in Donghyuck’s eyes, and Jaemin and Renjun have disappeared to who knows where so there’s no one to tease him.

“I can feel you staring.”

Scratch that, there’s still one person left to tease him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jeno deadpans, continuing to stare. In his pocket, his fingers fiddle with two small pieces of metal.

The explosions over the water intensify, so bright that Jeno can see Donghyuck’s face as clearly as at midday when he turns to meet Jeno’s gaze. “Oh yeah?”

Feeling his hard-won composure slipping, Jeno fights back a blush. 

“I have something for you.” He pulls his hand from his pocket, the two bronze charms in his palm warm from his skin as he holds them out to Donghyuck: a tiny bow and arrow, each the size of a paperclip, dangling from delicate clasps.

Donghyuck’s brow furrows as he gently plucks the arrow from Jeno’s palm. “Are these… earrings?”

“Clip-on,” Jeno assures him. “But look.” He holds the other charm between his fingers and tugs. Donghyuck lets out a gasp as the bronze expands into a full-size bow, complete with a leather grip and a taut string. “Try it.”

Donghyuck tugs the shaft of the arrow and it elongates until he's holding a fully-stocked quiver.

“I got the idea from Aphrodite’s arrow,” Jeno shrugs, ducking his head to fiddle with the bowstring. “I know it’s not as good as a gift from your dad, but—”

“Jeno,” Donghyuck interrupts, nimble fingers returning the bow and quiver to their miniature forms and pressing them back into Jeno’s hand, “they’re perfect. Put them on me?”

The last of the fireworks bloom with echoing booms but Jeno can barely hear them over the frantic beating of his own heart as he brushes Donghyuck’s golden-brown hair away from the shell of his ear and gently clips on the earrings.

“Well,” breathes Donghyuck as Jeno pulls away just enough to see at his face, hand still resting on the side of Donghyuck’s neck, “how do they look?”

“You’re beautiful,” Jeno says. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

The corner of Donghyuck’s mouth quirks. “Not what I asked, but I’ll take it.”

Their second kiss is nothing like their first. There’s no rush, no urgency as Donghyuck gently presses his lips to Jeno’s once, twice, three times. Jeno takes his time threading his fingers into Donghyuck’s hair, cradling his head and tilting it back just a bit as Donghyuck’s lips part just the smallest amount. The taste of honey spreads slowly over Jeno’s tongue, stronger now that they’re both clean and calm and not trapped in a cave. He swallows the sweet noise Donghyuck makes as he places a hand on the small of his back to draw him closer.

As if from far away, he hears the whoops and hollers of the other campers, Jaemin’s voice rising over the others and demanding that Jaehyun pay up, but he pays them no mind. There are much more important things to focus on, like the way Donghyuck’s hands clutch at his shirt, the way he shivers as Jeno tilts his head and runs his tongue over Donghyuck’s full lower lip.

After moments or hours or maybe days, Donghyuck pulls away to look at him with hazy eyes. “I think I like that better when I’m not about to die.”

Jeno smiles, feeling the buzz in his lips and his nerves. “Me too, Sunshine.”

  
  
  


The rest of summer seems to fly by in a whirlwind of classes, campfires, capture the flag, and kisses—each moment slipping past before Jeno can grasp it. Before he knows it, the last morning of camp dawns clear and bright. A note left next to his bed informs him that any campers not registered to stay full year must vacate their cabins by noon, or be eaten by the security harpies. Jeno suppresses a shudder; ever since his experience at the gas station, the demon chicken ladies give him the creeps.

He grabs a clean orange t-shirt as he rubs the sleep from his eyes and heads for the bathroom.

As he splashes water on his face, Jeno pauses to look at his reflection and it strikes him how different he looks. The Camp Half-Blood t-shirt, this bright orange color he would have never chosen to wear a few months ago seems like a part of himself now, linking him to his new friends and his new life. The new leather necklace around his neck has one bead for his first summer at camp, painted like a golden eye with a vertical feline pupil, a reminder of all he’s been through. His shoulders are broader, his arms toned from hours at the forge and the climbing wall, a kiss from the sun on his skin, and there’s a new confidence to the way he holds himself that makes him seem taller. Looking at his reflection, he doesn’t see Jeno Lee, weird loner who gets kicked out of every school he attends; he sees Jeno Lee, quest leader, Jeno Lee, member of the Hephaestus cabin. Jeno Lee, hero. 

The boy in the mirror smiles, his eyes curling into crescents.

The camp is a bustle of kids frantically stuffing their belongings in duffel bags and pulling forgotten clothing from underneath their bunks. Ryujin, the only year-round camper in Hephaestus cabin, sits calmly on her bunk and watches the chaos unfold around her.

“I can’t wait to have the cabin to myself again,” she sighs. “No more stinky boys leaving their socks on the floor.”

Changbin, who’s currently struggling to free a sock stuck under the foot of his bunk, scowls at her. “I tripped over your bolt cutters as soon as I got up this morning, Ryujin, don’t act like you’re the pinnacle of neatness.”

“You can’t prove those are mine,” Ryujin argues.

“They literally have your initials on the handle!”

Jeno starts to laugh, but it catches on a sudden lump in his throat. These kids feel like his family now and it dawns on Jeno just how much he’s going to miss them.

A t-shirt catches Jeno in the face, snapping him out of his moment of sentimentality. “I don’t think this is mine,” he says to no one in particular.

“Well it’s definitely not mine,” replies Yukhei, trying to stuff a large hammer into his bag.

Looking closer at the shirt, it seems familiar to Jeno: a cartoon dinosaur on the front, the sleeves slightly singed. “Oh, this is Donghyuck’s.”

Ryujin and Changbin stop bickering to raise their eyebrow in unison.

“And what, pray tell,” says Ryujin, “is Donghyuck’s shirt doing in our cabin?”

“Um. Nevermind.”

He ducks to avoid a shoe Changbin aims at his head.

The sun is nearing its crest in the sky by the time Jeno manages to get everything packed, but it looks like most campers are in the same predicament. Leave it to a bunch of ADHD demigods to meet a deadline by the skin of their teeth. Jaemin barely makes it out the door of his cabin before the harpies swoop in.

“You ready to go?” he asks brightly, apparently unfazed as he straightens his shirt and plucks a feather from his hair.

“Better be,” says Renjun, joining them as they head for the camp boundaries, “the vans leave in like five minutes.”

Donghyuck meets them at the top of Half-Blood Hill to say goodbye. “Have a good senior year,” he says, pulling Jaemin into a tight hug. “Try not to get expelled before you graduate.”

“I doubt he’ll last until Christmas break,” scoffs Renjun.

“Give him the benefit of the doubt,” laughs Donghyuck, embracing Renjun and planting an exaggerated kiss on his cheek. “And you,” he adds, turning to Jeno and tucking himself under his arm, “don’t blow anything up.”

“I’ll try,” Jeno grins. “We barely found a school to take me this year, I’m not sure there’ll be anywhere left to send me if I get kicked out.”

“Same,” sighs Jaemin. “Thank the gods this is our last year.”

“Jaem, our ride is leaving,” Renjun tugs at his sleeve, pointing to the van shuttling the west-coast kids to their flight.

“Oh Styx, we’d better go.” Jaemin gives Jeno a hasty hug and a meaningful nod toward Donghyuck, coupled with a wink. Jeno isn’t sure exactly what that means, but he copies the gesture, nodding toward Renjun, already a few steps down the hill, and raising an eyebrow. Jaemin flushes the delicate pink of a valentine and follows Renjun.

“Nice,” Donghyuck giggles, resting his head against Jeno’s shoulder as they watch Jaemin catch up to Renjun, his hands shoved in his pockets. “For someone so good at sticking his nose in other people’s relationships, he’s pretty clueless when it comes to himself.”

“Not sure we have room to talk,” Jeno admits, dropping a kiss on the top of Donghyuck’s head. “We might never have gotten together if we hadn’t been almost killed so many times.”

“Not true,” argues Donghyuck, “I would have kissed you sooner or later anyway. Maybe in less bloody and gross circumstances.”

“Oh really?” Jeno says, smirking as Donghyuck turns to face him. “And what would that have been like?”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes but takes the bait, cupping Jeno’s jaw and pressing a chaste kiss against his lips, feather-soft. The midday light turns his eyes to burnished bronze, matching the miniature bow and arrow clipped to his earlobe as he pulls away, thumb brushing gently over Jeno’s cheek. “I’m going to miss you, Hammer Head,” he murmurs.

“I’ll miss you too, Sunshine.” Jeno pulls Donghyuck close, trying to memorize the feel of him. “But I’ll be back next summer.”

“And then?”

“And then…” Jeno muses, carding his fingers through Donghyuck’s hair. “How does college in New Rome sound?”

“Sounds like an adventure,” Donghyuck says, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I think I’d like another adventure.”

“Good,” Jeno smiles softly, “because I have a feeling we’re at the beginning of a big one.”

At the bottom of Half-Blood Hill, Jeno turns and looks back. Donghyuck raises his hand in a wave, the sunlight catching on his hair, his smile, his honey skin, gleaming like a star. Jeno makes a wish and holds it close to his heart along with the memory of Donghyuck’s smile as the van pulls away from the camp borders and heads for Manhattan.

It’s not really goodbye, after all. A few months apart isn’t much compared to the rest of their lives.

Life is a quest, and Jeno’s going to write his own prophecy.

  
  
  


_“...like that star of the waning summer who beyond all stars rises bathed in the ocean stream to glitter in brilliance.”_

_-_ Homer, _The Illiad_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my goodness... it's really over....
> 
> I hope you've all enjoyed reading this fic as much as I've enjoyed writing it, and I hope I was able to bring some happiness to your 2020. 
> 
> I drew [Jeno concept art](https://twitter.com/see_thevision/status/1333900163295834112) and [Donghyuck concept art](https://twitter.com/see_thevision/status/1335427878066991105) if you'd like to check those out!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/see_thevision)  
> [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/riahsvision/)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/see_thevision)

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/see_thevision)   
>  [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/see_thevision)


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